To sum up:
They were again holding the Tri-Wizard Tournament, despite much
hesitation on the part of the sponsoring schools. Durmstrang, because of the
unfortunate "incident" last year, would not be competing. Some claimed that
this was a ghastly breach of tradition. Others said to hell with tradition,
just because it worked for Dad and Granddad before him doesn't mean it'll work
for us. Besides, the new principal (Miss Itzhana Levison, a Holocaust survivor
and quite a stern lady) wouldn't pony up the money for the entrance fee.
There was, however, a school that would. The Sycorax Academy for the
Subtyll Arts, a prestigious school in Bermuda. Well, not quite prestigious. For
one thing, they were part of the now-defunct Conch Republic[i],
and also known as the best wizarding party school in the world.
The principal, Señor Juan Abejo, was not even really considered a
wizard. He was a necromancer, which is not the same thing at all. The school
was similarly progressive. The subjects taught were things like Voodoo and
Aphromancy (sex ed, roughly), most students skipped class anyway, and on
weekends everyone, even the teachers, was on the beach.
So it is extremely fortunate for this story that the school was also
very rich. The bursar offered half the money in the coffers to pay the entrance
fee of both of the other schools participating. They eventually settled on the
idea that Sycorax would hold the tournament and pay for any expenses. This was
duly agreed upon.
And so, both Beauxbatons and Hogwarts made the perfunctory impressive
entrance. The Beauxbatons entered in a dazzle of fireworks, the Hogwarts kids
in a sort of flying turtle. Of course, that doesn't really matter as much as
what was happening the night the Champions were picked.
The ceremony was held on the beach, as were most ceremonies in Sycorax.
It was dark, and the only lights came from the scattered bonfires, illuminating
the sand and the gentle waves with an eerie, incandescent light.
Hermione, Ron, and Harry, along with a few other Gryffindors, were
sitting around a small fire near the back of the crowd, by a whitewashed
seawall. There was still a while before they drew the names, and the packets of
marshmallows and piles of breadfruit, suitable for either roasting, sticking in
the fire and watching burn, or throwing at each other, hadn't run out yet.
"So," Hermione said, "did you put your name in the Cup this year?"
Harry snorted. "No. I don't want to go through all that again."
"I did," Ron said. "Like they're ever going to choose me, right?"
"Hmm," Hermione said. She absently ate a marshmallow.
A girl bounced over to their fire and sat down next to Harry. "Hey, can
I sit with you 'cause I'm a pathetic loser and I don't have any friends?"
Harry was taken aback. "Um, sure."
"I'm not really that pathetic," the girl continued, "but I got bored."
She looked into the fire, and Harry took a chance to observe her closely.
She had short straight hair, dyed turquoise blue. She was wearing dark
sunglasses, despite the night, a pink, faded, cotton tank top, an unbuttoned
plaid shirt, and cut-offs. She was wearing sandals, and her toenails were
painted electric blue.
The girl tilted her head back. "Nice night, isn't it? All humid and
muggy." She slapped at her arm. "Stupid mosquitoes."
Harry shrugged. "I wouldn't know about those. I'm wearing bug spray."
The girl laughed. "Bug spray is for wimps." She showed him her arm,
which was dotted with pink calamine lotion. "See, these are marks of honor."
She stared fixedly at nothing, then reached out and grabbed at the air.
"Gotcha!"
"What'd you get?" Harry asked, intrigued.
The girl opened her hand and showed him. It was a huge, dancing
mosquito. Harry involuntarily shuddered.
"So," he asked, trying to ignore the both the long-legged vampire
insect and Hermione and Ron smooching, "what's your name?"
"You," the girl said, "are looking at the Queen of the Freaks[ii].
My official title is Neeko the Third."
Hermione stopped snogging Ron for a few seconds. "Hey," she said, "I've
heard of you."
Neeko leaned back. "Yeah? Whatcha heard?"
"You were the girl that made that huge banner that said 'All your base
are belong to us!' and hung it outside the school the day that everyone got
here, weren't you?" Hermione asked.
"Yup," Neeko said.
"And weren't you the one that dropped that water balloon on Professor
Snape?" Ron asked excitedly.
Neeko grinned. "That was also moi."
"And," Harry said, "you were the one who coined the term 'Voldie'."
Neeko laughed. "That was me, me, me!"
"Attention," came a voice from the front.
Everyone looked expectantly.
"Attention," Señor Abejo repeated. "I would just like to announce the
2002 Champions of the Tri-Wizard Tournament."
"Why isn't Dumbledore announcing them?" Harry whispered.
"It's not his school," Neeko said.
"The first Champion," Abejo said,
"for the school of Beauxbatons…is Señorita Novinha del Rey! Would Novinha del
Rey please come up?"
A tall, dark, thin girl in a blue
robe and a sort of white veil made her way up to the makeshift platform, where
Madame Maxime, Professor Dumbledore, and Señor Abejo were standing with the
Goblet of Fire.
"The second Champion," Abejo said,
"for the school of Hogwarts…is Miss Hermione Granger!"
Ron gave Hermione a kiss, and Harry
slapped her on the back. "Go get 'em!"
Hermione bounced to her feet and
made her way to the platform.
"This is SO cool," Ron said
happily. "My girlfriend is the Champion."
"Yeah," Harry said, "and last year
it was your best friend. Bet it's gonna be you next year."
"It had BETTER be," Ron said.
"And the third and final Champion,"
Abejo said, "for the sponsoring school of Sycorax…is…" There was a whispering
of "I'm sure we don't have any students of that name".
Abejo shrugged. "All right. The
Champion is Miss Tequila Rosewater!"
Neeko sighed. "Oh, her.
Figures."
Harry craned his neck to see.
"She's not going up."
"And she's not going to," Neeko
said, slumping in her seat.
"Hey," Ron said with an
uncharacteristic flash of insight, "you're Tequila Rosewater."
Neeko sighed. "Well, now you've
found out my deep dark secret," she said flippantly. She pulled her shades down
on her nose, revealing her flower-colored eyes. "I'm still not going. I didn't
even put my name in. Abejo probably put it in for me because he knew I'm the
best candidate."
"You have to accept the final
judgment," Harry said.
"Not if my name's not Tequila
Rosewater," Neeko said. She pushed her shades back up and stretched.
"The Champion," Abejo repeated, "is
Miss Tequila Rosewater. Otherwise known," he added, "as Neeko the Third."
There was a murmuring from numerous
fire-rings. "Neeko? Can't be…she's such a freak. Who'd want…probably
rigged…"
Neeko sighed and stood up. "Oh
well." She gave Harry a little wave. "See ya later, gorgeous." And with that,
she ran up to the platform.
"She called me gorgeous," Harry
said.
"She calls everyone gorgeous," said
a girl in a wheelchair.