Could You Feed Yourself to the Fire?
Special occasions mandatorily came with their own outfits, lipstick colour, accessories and shoes, and putting her name in the goblet of fire was proving a difficult occasion to get ready for. Most of the older students would be there, not to mention the piercing judgmental eyes of the Beauxbatons and the steaming Durmstrang glare. Victoire had to make sure she didn't look like she was putting effort into her look but had to be as eye catching as ever. Time was flying by with every lipstick colour she discarded, every bracelet tossed to the side and every shoe kicked to the curb. She had to decide. Calling her as she sat on the bed contemplating her next move, was a pair of navy-blue military boots with a proud raven on the back. As she slowly picked them up, she envisioned the moment she received them- her family sitting by the fire as she opened the box, the laughs at her brother trying them on and the pride in her parents faces at their daughter entering her final year as a Ravenclaw. Could there be a pair of shoes any more appropriate? As she slipped her feet into what felt like a warm homey hug, the pale pink matte lipstick was the only one, the black, silver and blue pearl bracelet set made sense with her black beret and the only thing that would decorate her fingers would be the family ring and her promise ring. Gazing at herself in the mirror, she couldn't help but grin at the possible future of becoming a Triwizard champion and proving to herself that she wasn't just her appearance and wit.
"Okay, we're ready!" Aaron chimed.
Merrily, Victoire strutted out of her room and down the steps with her boots proudly leading every step she took, her school robe elegantly gliding over the stairs and her confidence higher than ever. She had decided that all Ravenclaws who wished to enter their names into the competition would go together, to ensure that those with less confidence would be supported and to simply bring them all together.
"Having the courage to enter your name already makes you a champion," Victoire declared with cheers filling the common room before they marched to the great hall.
Despite there still being glowing light outside, the hall was darker than usual. Tense was an understatement for the atmosphere, with Hogwarts students being separated from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang students, the faintest of whispers could be heard if you concentrated hard enough and the only noise that wanted to be heard was the clapping from whenever anyone put their name into the goblet. The age line circled around the goblet like an almost translucent white wave and the light in the room would change from orange to be blue as people surrendered their names.
Heads turned as the twenty or so Ravenclaws entered the hall, some holding hands as the butterflies increased, others whispering words of encouragement to each other and Victoire, Aaron and Brea debating on whether Dorian Grey was a wizard. Whispers increased as more and more students realized that Ravenclaw's head girl was submitting her name into the most daring and dangerous challenge of the century.
"Hold on a second," Fred attempted to not be too loud as he ran up to Victoire, "you know none of our family would want you to do this right? This isn't deciding to wear pink with red or to wear tweed in summer, this is entering challenges that almost killed our uncle and gives your mother nightmares,"
"Fred Weasley the second, trust me, I have thought this through," Victoire took his hand, "and how could you even mention the profanity of tweed in summer to me?"
As Victoire waited for her turn to enter her name, numerous students offered her support, claiming that if they weren't picked, they'd hope that she was chosen instead, but there was one girl who seemed less than happy about Victoire even existing. Fashioning the infamous silk blue uniform was an ebony skinned girl with her almost black hair put back into a pristine ponytail, her slender face held glowing hazel brown eyes that were fixed on Victoire, plump lips sported a deep lustful and temptingly glistening red and her delicate fingers played with a piece of intricately folded parchment. Rather than being envious of her good looks, Victoire only imagined herself in the uniform of her dreams as the girl slowly walked towards her. Unsure whether to say hello or just ignore her, she gently nodded, which the girl did in return before placing her name in the fire, prompting an eruption of high-pitched cheering from her fellow students.
"What gives her the right to walk like she owns the place?" Brea tutted,
"Probably the fact that daddy bought her the latest Gucci shoes in limited edition tiffany blue velvet," Fred replied with his eyes locked on the girl's feet,
"Something about the way you said 'daddy' made me concerned about that sentence," Aaron laughed as he clapped for the next person to put their name in the fire.
Caring for someone she had never met before was not Victoire's style and instead of looking at her shoes, she stared at the goblet of fire. Invisible forces from the waving fire begged her to come closer as she slid a piece of parchment out from her pocket. She could feel the heat from the flame the closer she got, only lighting her desire to be a champion even more and as if slowly being pulled by a string, her arm reached up to the goblet with the parchment loosely being held in her hand. Quiet flickering from the fire filled her ears as if it were headphones blocking out all noise around her. The parchment slid between her index and middle finger, edging closer and closer to the flame. She had convinced herself that she would have doubts and fears rushing through her head in this crucial moment, yet they didn't even come close to penetrating her skull. Peacefully, she watched the fire begin to devour the edge of the parchment and slowly begin to claim the neatly swirled 'V' of her name. As the flame changed colour, claps began to drown out the sound of its roaring and Victoire smiled as she fed herself to the fire.
"It's good to see that there could be easy competition," a rugged voice with a thick and intriguing accent said.
After pushing through the claps and pats on the back, Victoire found herself standing in front of a six-foot-five dark haired man wearing the thick Durmstrang fur coat. His neat facial hair softened his otherwise too sharp jaw line, blemishing his cream coloured skin were scars on his left cheek and nose and though one eye was a dark wild green, the other was a foggy grey. Towering over her, Victoire could see his arm muscles pressing against his thick coat, his chest puffed out like a proud bird attempting to claim territory and his large hands that she could cook a full English breakfast on interlocked.
"I'm Victoire," she smiled, holding out her puny hand in comparison to his,
"Leon," he shook her hand, not being considerate of her frailness, "you expect to be chosen?"
"Well, yes. Isn't that the case for everyone who enters?"
"For some. But you, you would not last one second in such challenges, you wouldn't even last one second against my four-year-old brother."
Laughter came from the band of Durmstrangs behind him and some of the Beauxbatons girls even decided to chime in, however Hogwarts students did not seem impressed. Victoire wasn't touched by his insult in the slightest, in fact, she found it a bit weak if his goal was to intimidate her.
"I'm sorry, did I say something to offend you and make you act this way towards me?" she didn't wait for the noise to cease,
"I'm sorry little mouse, I can't hear you. Girls like you should stick to writing magazines and making potions, leave something as physical and great as the Triwizard Tournament to men like me," Leon roared at the end of his pig worthy speech with his pig-like mates cheering along,
Victoire shook her head and giggled, making the cheering end abruptly, "Boys like you can be so very amusing. You believe that only those similar to you can be worthy, when in fact you aren't nearly as worthy as the muggle who trims my hair."
Leon narrowed his brow and opened his mouth ready to growl another most likely witless speech at her, but she was not done and put her finger to his lips.
"You talk, well growl, but you're not really saying anything of any relevance. I don't know how it works in your school, but in Hogwarts, we treat each other with respect, yet you seem to be the type who doesn't even know how to spell the word, let alone know the meaning of it."
Sharp hisses came from behind her as if snakes had just seen their prey exposed from the bush it had been hiding in. Smug wasn't a look that Victoire liked to carry so she turned around and gestured for her friends to make leave.
"Blonde slut," Leon spat.
Why couldn't people be more inventive with their insults towards her? Everything came with blonde at the beginning and as they couldn't insult her intelligence, looks, size or fashion sense, they went to the one thing they couldn't be certain of- her sexual activity. She turned around and strode towards Leon, making sure there was barely any space between them as she stared up into his eyes with fire burning in her. Not even she knew what she was going to do next and it was only when she slammed the heavy heel of her army boots into his toe that the words and actions needed came to her. As he winced from the sudden sharp pain, she grabbed his shirt and yanked at it, pulling his face to be in front of hers with their noses almost touching. With the delicacy of a rose petal, she stroked his cheek, forcing a look of lust into her eyes as her grip loosened from his shirt and her fingertips seductively slid up and down his neck and she pressed her lips against his ear knowing the sensation of her breath would have some effect.
"I could run circles around little boys like you," she whispered before kissing his cheek lightly.
Aggressively, she pushed him away with all the force she could muster, forcing him to take several steps back and his stern face became soft with shock as he rubbed his neck to sooth the goosebumps.
"Because I think with my brain," she said loud enough as she strutted away, "not with what's tucked between my legs."