PART ONE ( EYE OF THE HURRICANE ) CHAPTER FIFTEEN:
015 || Keeping Up With the Malfoys
"in which aurelia black almost ends rita skeeter's entire career . . ."
THE REST OF the night is a complete blur to Aurelia, there's a huge party in the common room when she gets there most of them ignore her in favour for Cedric, some glare at her, her friends try to force her to celebrate but she shrugs them off. She feels like someone's suffocating her, nothing is right, everything is going to crush and burn. This shouldn't have happened to her, why, why, why?
Aurelia crawls under her covers, reviling in the darkness of the dorm and her misery as she tries to make it go way. She's not sure what she's trying to make go away, she wants her mind to stop racing, she wants her heart to stop hammering against her chest, she wants this overwhelming panic to end.
She thought this year might go by decently despite the Triwizard Tournament being revived, she thought that she'd be able to keep herself together, keep her life moving on a track, but she's now running off the track because all the bolts and rails have all cracked. Everything around her is crashing and burning and she can't breathe. She can't fucking breathe. Someone put her name in the Goblet of Fire to harm her or possibly kill her and no one is looking into it. No one cares, no one seems to realise that she too has been placed into the deadly tournament, they only care about Harry Potter.
She's got even more of a disadvantage than Harry, he's got supporters because he killed Voldemort whereas her family supported Voldemort, they killed for Voldemort. No one is going to care if she gets hurt or if she dies, that's why she's in this thing in the first place. She feels so all alone.
Much to her surprise she falls asleep before any of her dorm mates even come to bed, Aurelia falls asleep hoping that this had all been a terrible dream. When she wakes up, the rising sun shines through the little circular windows, all her dorm mates are tucked in their beds sleeping peacefully. Aurelia doesn't feel at peace; she doesn't feel anything at all.
Pulling herself from her bed, she heads to the showers.
Not even ten minutes, her dorm mates stir from their slumber — except Susan, she's been awake for hours. Olivia, normally not a morning person, is exceedingly giddy as she jumps up from her bed.
Olivia throws a pillow at the lump of sheets on Aurelia's bed that look deceivingly like a person curled up on the covers.
"Leave her alone, Newton," Susan says, shaking her head at her dorm mate's antics.
"Why, Bones," Olivia retorts, throwing another pillow at Aurelia's bed.
"She clearly doesn't want to be bothered, she probably wants to sleep in and not deal with the fact that she's in the tournament. In case you haven't bothered to notice, she wants nothing to do with it." Susan replies.
"Then how did her name get in if she didn't put it in?" Olivia counters.
"Who knows. Oh, Blue left to take a shower ten minutes ago," Susan tells her, "Those are just blankets."
"Oh."
Hannah rolls her eyes at Susan and Olivia as she makes her bed.
"She probably entered to impress Lover Boy Longbottom," Hannah says, half-jokingly and half-bitterly.
Susan and Olivia turn to stare at her.
"What? Too soon?"
"Just a little," Olivia replies, smiling pitifully at her.
Hannah adores Aurelia, she really does. Aurelia's a great and loyal friend and Hannah normally doesn't talk bad about her. But, Hannah started crushing on Neville Longbottom, the same boy that Aurelia's been blatantly crushing on since second year. Now, Hannah's been very bitter towards Aurelia even though she tries really hard not to be. Aurelia's her friend first and she's trying really hard not to let some silly crush come between them. Especially now more than ever, Aurelia needs all the support she can get and Hannah's got to do her best not to let her jealousy get in the way so she can support her friend.
"If this were a Muggle movie, Blue would've come into the room just as you said that." Olivia quips.
Believing Olivia's hinting that Aurelia had entered the dorm, Hannah whips her head around only to find that Olivia had truly been joking. However, seconds later, Aurelia enters the dorm looking like a zombie.
"Oh, look! It's Aurelia Lee!"
Hannah and Susan share confused looks but Aurelia, who's seen Grease like a thousand times thanks to Olivia, sighs and snaps: "Alright, which one of you bitches is shit talking me?!"
Hannah freezes because: how does she knows?
Olivia laughs "No one's shit talking you. Honestly, we were just talking about you and the tournament before you entered. You know me, I can't resist my Grease references."
Aurelia rolls her brown eyes as she stumbles over to her bed to grab her wand off her night stand. She points her wand at her hair, muttering the spell for the Hot Air Charm to dry her soaking wet hair. "What classes do we have to — it's Sunday," Aurelia realises with a groan, "Aw, fuck!"
The three girls stare at her concerned, Olivia asks: Are you gonna be alright?"
They frown as she replies: "No."
x
ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ᴛʜᴇᴍ ɢᴏʟᴅ | ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ᴛʜᴇᴍ ɢᴏʟᴅ | ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ᴛʜᴇᴍ ɢᴏʟᴅ | ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ᴛʜᴇᴍ ɢᴏʟᴅ | ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ᴛʜᴇᴍ ɢᴏʟᴅ
x
THE REST OF Sunday passes without incident mostly because Aurelia stayed in her dorm room all day, refusing to go out when her friends asked her too. Then Monday comes around and Aurelia knows it's going to be a dreadful day, maybe even week, the moment she wakes up from a horrid nightmare. The nightmare had been about the Goblet of Fire. More specifically, who put her name in the Goblet of Fire.
In the nightmare, Voldemort had been sitting in Dumbledore's chair, in the Great Hall, and she was sure it was him. She had seen a drawing of him, Maeve had drawn him once years ago and she had stumbled across it. He was scary to look at, he radiated a dangerous power as he sat in the chair like it was his throne; glaring down at the Goblet of Fire with dark eyes.
In front of the Goblet had stood her Aunt Bellatrix, holding a crumpled piece of parchment in her hand, just above the burning blue flame.
"You know my rule, Bella," Voldemort had hissed, "She must be destroyed. They all must be destroyed. Put her name in the goblet and she will perish."
Her aunt didn't need to be told twice, dropping the name into the fire without a hint of remorse, her icy blue eyes alight with an alarming madness.
As Aurelia's name disappeared into the depths of the goblet, the blue flames turned red and her aunt let out a shrill and terrible laugh. But it had not been her aunt's real laugh but Gwendoline Goyle's laugh.
Aurelia had looked up only to watch her aunt's face literally melt into Goyle's face. At this, Aurelia had let out a horrified scream and promptly woke herself up.
She immediately knows that she's late as her dorm is completely empty. Looking at the alarm clock on Olivia's night stand, her eyes widen in horror. Class had started ten minutes ago. To make matters worse, she had Potions first thing.
"Oh, shit," Aurelia yelps, jumping out of bed. This is going to be a very, very long week.
x
ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ᴛʜᴇᴍ ɢᴏʟᴅ | ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ᴛʜᴇᴍ ɢᴏʟᴅ | ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ᴛʜᴇᴍ ɢᴏʟᴅ | ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ᴛʜᴇᴍ ɢᴏʟᴅ | ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ᴛʜᴇᴍ ɢᴏʟᴅ
x
FRIDAY AFTERNOON, DURING her favourite class of all, History of Magic, the Triwizard Tournament comes back around to ruin her already shitty mood. Colin Creevey arrives along with Harry, the second-year tells Professor Binns that 'Mr. Bagman needs her and Harry for photos.' and Aurelia finds herself being dragged out of her favourite class to go get some stupid photos to promote a stupid tournament she doesn't want to nor shouldn't be in.
Stepping out the classroom, Colin comments that it must be amazing to be a champion and it takes everything in Aurelia not to scream bloody murder.
"What do they need photographs for," Aurelia sighs tiredly.
"The Daily Prophet."
Aurelia freezes, if they've sent Rita fucking Skeeter to write the articles about the tournament then Aurelia's going to throw herself out a window. She hates Rita Skeeter and she's pretty certain the feeling's mutual. It's a family thing, really. And it all started when her Aunt Bellatrix went to Hogwarts, her and Skeeter had been dorm mates, to make a very long, petty feud-filled story short, everyone in Aurelia's family hates Rita Skeeter because her and Bellatrix had been in a seven year-long fight over who the meanest bitch at school was. Spoiler alert: neither won. Gwendoline Goyle took the cake on that one.
"Fuckin' wonderful," Aurelia curses, "Harold, if I try to throw m'self out a window, don't try and stop me."
"If you call me Harold one more time you can count on me to be the one to throw you through that window," Harry retorts.
"Harold."
Colin comes to a stop in front of classroom door "Good luck," he tells them and hurries back to whatever class he's supposed to be in. Harry knocks on the door before entering it, Aurelia following behind him.
It's a rather small classroom and it's hard to miss Rita Skeeter and her dramatically magenta-coloured robs. And it's hard for Rita to miss the Bellartrix clone walking through the door even with the Boy-Who-Lived right beside her.
"You," The blonde hisses, narrowing her eyes.
"You," Aurelia hisses back, matching Skeeter's tone of malice.
Rita looks like she's going to tackle Aurelia and she might've had Bagman not exclaimed: "Ah, here he is! Champion number four and five! In you come, Harry, in you come . . . Nothing to worry about, it's just the wand weighing ceremony, the rest of the judges will be here in a moment —"
Aurelia doesn't bother mentioning that — hey! I exist y'know, asshole! to Bagman because at this point it's a lost cause, all he cares about is Harry. She doesn't like the fact are people are completely ignoring the fact she's part of this tournament even though that's exactly what she's trying to do.
"We have to check that your wands are fully functional, no problems, you know, as they're your most important tools in the tasks ahead," Bagman explains, "The expert's upstairs now with Dumbledore. And then there's going to be a little photo shoot. This is Rita Skeeter, she's doing a small piece on the tournament for the Daily Prophet. . . ."
"Maybe not that small, Ludo," Skeeter says, her eyes on Harry and Aurelia.
Aurelia glares at her, trying to remember all the stories that her mother had told her about Skeeter. If Skeeter tries to pull something against her, she'll use one of the pranks her aunts pulled on her. Aurelia smiles, recalling her favourite one — the perfect one.
"I wonder if I could have a little word with Harry and Aurelia before we start," Skeeter asks Bagman as she gazes fixedly at Harry and Aurelia, "The youngest champions, you know . . . To add a bit of color?"
Bull fucking shit, Aurelia thinks, rolling her eyes.
"Certainly," Bagman cries, "That is — if Harry has no objection?"
He didn't even try to include Aurelia this time around, she rolls her eyes again.
"Er —" Harry says.
"I'd rather die," Aurelia mutters darkly but it's too late. Skeeter's wrapped her fingers — more like talons, around Aurelia's skinny forearm and then she grabs Harry's with the other, the bitch has got a surprisingly strong grip.
"Lovely," Skeeter says, dragging Aurelia and Harry out of the room and to a nearby door. She opens that and shoves Aurelia into it, she's a bit more careful with Harry.
"We don't want to be in there with all that noise," Skeeter remarks, "Let's see . . . Ah, yes, this is nice and cozy."
It's a broom cupboard.
"Ah, a closet, I feel right at home," Aurelia sarcastically remarks under her breath.
"What was that, dear," Skeeter asks, the word 'dear' is laced with enough venom to kill Aurelia ten times over.
"Nothing," Aurelia snaps.
Skeeter narrows her eyes before smiling too sweetly at Aurelia and Harry and asking: "You won't mind if I use a Quick-Quotes Quill? It leaves me free to talk the two of you normally. . . ."
"I'd much —"
"A what," Harry questions.
Oh, sweet Merlin, this bitch is going to write so much shit about us, Aurelia thinks exasperated.
"Testing . . . My name is Rita Skeeter, Daily Prophet reporter," Skeeter says, the quill starts to write on its own, "Lovely . . . So, Harry . . . what made you decide to enter the Triwizard Tournament?"
"Wait, we never said you could use that quill," Aurelia points out annoyed.
"Er —" Harry says, distracted by the quill that is writing down words that aren't being spoken.
"Ignore the quill, Harry," Skeeter tells him firmly, "Now — why did you decide to enter the tournament, Harry?"
"We didn't," Aurelia answers for him, she doesn't trust Skeeter and Harry's got no idea how terrible this woman can be, "We're too young to put our names in, we — especially me — want nothing to do with this tournament. We've got no idea how our names ended up in the goblet."
Skeeter gives her a dirty look "I was asking, Harry. You'll get your fame that you, oh so crave like the Black that you are, in a moment."
"Listen, you old cu —" Aurelia cuts herself off. She's got a potty mouth, she always has and always will but that's one word she tries not to use. If she's going to say that word, she'd rather save it for her aunt if she ever meets her, Rita Skeeter no matter how foul doesn't deserve to be called that word by Aurelia. That word has been, and always be reserved for Bellatrix. Hopefully, Aurelia never has to use it.
After a tense pause of Harry staring at her slack-jawed and Skeeter stares at her like she wants to stab Aurelia in the jugular, Aurelia smiles politely and says: "Very well, continue then, Madam Skeeter."
"I didn't," Harry replies after another pause, "Like Blue said, I don't know how my name got into the Goblet of Fire. I didn't put it in there."
"Come now, Harry, there's no need to be scared of getting into trouble. We all know you shouldn't really have entered at all. But don't worry about that. Our readers love a rebel."
"But I didn't enter," Harry repeats. "I don't know who —"
"How do you feel about the tasks ahead? Excited? Nervous?" Skeeter questions.
Aurelia's stomach churns painfully at the mere thought of the tasks, I'm fucked, totally fucked.
"I haven't really thought . . . Yeah, nervous, I suppose," Harry replies.
"Champions have died in the past, haven't they? Have you thought about that at all?" Rita asks.
Aurelia feels faint, she already knew this but being reminded of it as a Triwzard champion brings about a whole new sense of fear.
"Well . . . they say it's going to be a lot safer this year," Harry says, which might've been true before their names had been entered. If someone could mess with the Goblet of Fire then they can mess with the tasks just as easily.
"Of course, you've looked death in the face before, haven't you?" Skeeter says, "How would you say that's affected you? Do you think that the trauma 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 Triwizard Tournament because —"
"I didn't enter," Harry repeats irritably.
"Can you remember your parents at all," Skeeter asks, talking over him.
"No," Harry says.
"How do you think they'd feel if they knew you were competing in the Triwizard Tournament? Proud? Worried? Angry?"
How the fuck is he supposed to know the answer to that — Aurelia's distracted by the scratching of the quill so she peers down at it and snorts as she reads: Tears fill those startling green eyes as our conversation turns to the parents he can barely remember.
Harry looks down as well and exclaims: "I have NOT got tears in my eyes!"
Before Skeeter can say anything, the door of the broom cupboard opens. Dumbledore stands there, looking down at the three of them, squashed into the cupboard; Aurelia's never felt more happy to see Dumbledore before.
"Dumbledore! How are you," Rita cries out delighted, "I hope you saw my piece over the summer about the International Confederation of Wizards' Conference?"
"Enchantingly nasty," Dumbledore replies, "I particularly enjoyed your description of me as an obsolete dingbat."
Does this woman have any shame? Aurelia wonders, freeing herself from the confines of the cupboard. Of course, she knows the answer to her question, and that would be: no. None at all.
"I was just making the point that some of your ideas are a little old-fashioned, Dumbledore, and that many wizards in the street —"
"I will be delighted to hear the reasoning behind the rudeness, Rita," Dumbledore, says with a courteous bow and a smile, "But I'm afraid we will have to discuss the matter later. The Weighing of the Wands is about to start, and it cannot take place if two of our champions are hidden in a broom cupboard."
Aurelia and Harry scurry back into the room with the other champions who were all sitting in chairs now. Aurelia sits down on one side of Cedric and Fleur, Harry sits down on Cedric's other side.
"May I introduce Mr. Ollivander," Dumbledore says, 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."
Mr. Ollivander steps forward into the middle of the room and asks for Fleur's wand first, the blonde sweeps over to him and hands over her wand. He examines the wand thoroughly, he's surprised to find that the core is from a Veela and he comments that he's never made a wand with Veela hair before then he casts a spell. Finally he announces that her wand's in perfect working order. He then turns to Cedric, examining his wand which turns out to be perfectly fine and then he asks for Viktor's wand to examine, it turns out to be in perfect working order.
"Miss. Black."
Aurelia nervously gets up and hands over her wand to the old man.
He inspects the wand carefully "My great-great grandmother, Gelasia was quite fond of this wand, it was her most prized creation. Has it worked well with you, Thestral hair is very unstable?"
Aurelia nods "It's worked wonderfully."
"To this day I still haven't attempted to craft a wand with Thestral hair, my grandmother was far more adventurous than I will ever be." Ollivander remarks, "Cypress wood, twelve inches, it's unyielding I believe . . . It gives others a hard time if they try to use it?"
Aurelia nods "Sometimes, it worked for Cedric when he tried to use it but not for Olivia."
"Mhm, Mr. Diggory's wand core is made of Unicorn hair, my grandmother mentioned that this wand may be fond of other wands with Unicorn hair, it must've sensed Mr. Diggory's wand contained Unicorn hair . . . Do you recall what your friend's wand contains?"
"Kneazle whisker, I think," Aurelia replies.
Ollivander nods as he twirls her wand between his fingers, then he points it firmly saying: "Aberto," causing all the windows to open. He declares that her wand works perfectly and hands it back to her, Aurelia returns to her seat as the Wandmaker calls up Harry for the inspection. Ollivander spends the longest time examining Harry's wand but in the end he declares that Harry's wand is in perfect working condition like the rest of them.
"Thank you all, you may go back to your lessons now — or perhaps it would be quicker just to go down to dinner, as they are about to end —" Dumbledore says.
Aurelia jumps up, relieved to hear she can go now but than Bagman ruins it by exclaiming: "Photos, Dumbledore, photos! All the judges and champions, what do you think, Rita?"
"Er — yes, let's do those first," Skeeter says although she doesn't sound thrilled by the idea as she stares at Aurelia then at Harry, "And then, perhaps some individual shots."
The photo's take way too long for Aurelia's liking; the only thing that's keeping her from scowling is the thought of the 'Pink Paint Mistake' that happened to Skeeter thanks to her aunts, Bellatrix and Andromeda.
Eventually they're free to go, Aurelia's almost out the door when Skee grabs her arm unexpectedly. Aurelia feels a panic welling up inside her, this can't be good.
"Hold on, Miss. Malfoy, it's been awhile since I've had time to interview my favourite Pureblood family," Skeeter says, her narrowed eyes scanning Aurelia's gnangly body up and down.
Sensing her unease, Skeeter then grins widely at her "I won't keep you long, I only have a few questions to ask you?"
Aurelia narrows her eyes suspiciously, she doesn't like the grin Skeeter is giving her.
"It's been quite a few years since I've last spoken to your family, they were always quite interesting to have a nice interview with."
"I'm pretty sure my family have you banned from even thinking about them," Aurelia huffs.
"I haven't seen you in the streets with them in recent years, not much of a public person, Bella — I mean, Asterope? The last time I spoke with Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy was when, hmm, as I recall when Mr. Malfoy had just bought those special albino peacocks. Tell me, how are they doing?"
"The peacocks say fuck you," Aurelia spits out, hair flaming red at Skeeter's not so accidental slip up.
Skeeter's smile drops and Aurelia can tell that her nice facade is done with, she'll get to the real questions, the real reason she stopped Aurelia from leaving. It probably has something to do with Aurelia's obvious disownment from the Malfoy family. It wasn't as public as Andromeda's was so, Skeeter and anybody else at the Daily Prophet must be chomping at the bit to get some details.
Skeeter pulls out a photograph from her crocodile-skin handbag, Aurelia catches a glimpse of the moving polaroid and her heart stops.
Oh, shit.
"How did you get those scars?"
Aurelia swallows thickly, there's no use in lying because that will only make the piece Skeeter's going to write about it worse. As much as she wants to scream at Skeeter that it's none of her fucking business, Aurelia knows that will do nothing to help her.
"A . . . A werewolf. I was n — nine when it happened, I . . . Got lost in the woods near my home," Aurelia replies quietly, tears welling in her eyes at the memory.
"Why do you hide them?"
Aurelia so badly wants to point out that's more than a few questions but she doesn't because this is her chance to save herself from the humiliating, privacy-invading article Skeeter's got planned for her. "I don't like it when people stare at them, it's annoying," Aurelia replies, trying to keep her voice as calm as possible.
Skeeter deflates slightly "So people know about them?"
Aurelia nods her head, trying to grin smugly at Skeeter but she probably fails at the smile so she says "Yes, most people think they're nasty but others stare at me with a lot pity so I keep them hidden."
She watches the sly expression slip off Skeeter's face with grim satisfaction. Of course, this doesn't completely erase the chances of Skeeter writing about her scars or mentioning them in the article about the champions but it certainly lowers them. It gives her more time.
"So, if I wrote about the attack in my article to shine a light on just how strong you are, it wouldn't come as a surprise to anyone," Skeeter questions nonchalantly.
Aurelia narrows her eyes "listen here, you little bug!"
Skeeter flinches at this, eyes widening slightly as all colour drains from her face. Aurelia snorts, that wasn't even the worse thing I could say to her! She momentarily wonders why Skeeter seems to hate bugs so much and what she could do with that information if it came down to it but Aurelia doesn't ponder it long, she has worse things to worry about.
"I don't know what you're playing at but no! No one would be surprised," Aurelia snarls, for good measure, she wipes the make up off her face, exposing most of her scars. Good Godric, she hopes this is enough to stop her from even mentioning the scars in the article, it probably isn't, knowing what a little bitch Skeeter can be. The worst part: is she's now got to tell her friends about the scars before they're possibly exposed in a fucking article of all things.
"Oh, I see," Skeeter says, sounding positively disinterested in the topic now.
"So you do, indeed," Aurelia snaps, rubbing more of her make-up off, "Now if you'll excuse me, I've got food to go eat — Oh! By the way, there's something pink — in your hair, it looks like paint."
Skeeter gives a gasp of horror, hands flying up to her hairline and Aurelia gives her a shit-eating grin that reminds her so much of Bellatrix and Andromeda back during her Hogwarts years. Leaving the blonde think that maybe, just maybe she best leave Aurelia alone no matter how badly she wants to get revenge on the Black sisters.
"Bye, bye Madam Skeeter," Aurelia says, smiling sweetly as she tries to ignore the tears blurring her vision. She's not going to let herself cry in front of Rita Skeeter, that's worse than being in this bloody tournament. Which says a lot.