Astaron stared at his best friend as he jabbered on excitedly about the schools that were coming later. He personally thought that he was more excited about the fact that classes end half-a-day early, but he kept that thought to himself. Ron was practically skipping as he walked, his excitement practically rolling off him in thick waves. He merely nodded along, not really saying anything to him, only when his opinion was specifically asked for in which cases he merely responded with anything that seemed appropriate at the specified moment.
They were on there way to History of Magic, which was the usual bore, and then they would be doing Double Charms. He wondered silently if Professor Flitwick would mind if he missed the first session of Charms; he still needed to finish reviewing the portfolio for the Slytherin and Peverell estates, then he needed to go on to the Potter estates; additionally, he had asked for a complete inventory of everything in the vaults of Potter, Peverell, and Slytherin which took up 3 rather thick files so those needed to be addressed soon. He had not thought working with 3 Houses would be this much work, but he was so very thankful that he hadn't taken up the mantle for Gryffindor or O'Meara. He would have probably had a mental breakdown or some shit like that already. Some little part of his mind wondered if Amaya was doing the same thing with the vaults she was Heiress of.
He ended up just completing left-over assignments during History of Magic, somehow persuading Ron to do the same so that they wouldn't have any homework to do for the rest of the week; that got Ron working with enthusiasm.
Charms was nice. They began starting on the summoning charm, Accio, and that wasn't too much trouble. Having exercised his core the night prior, he was slightly exhausted and wasn't immediately catching on to the charm. The most he managed was to get it to fly to his about halfway before the charm failed. Astaron wasn't too beaten down about as he knew there was a reason behind it.
He had taken a pepper-up potion this morning, as he had been doing for the past week. After the memory ritual, he had been having a hard time sleeping, if he had managed to fall asleep, he found no peace as twisted memories would and wake him during the middle of his rest.
His mind was slowly coming to a rest, but it would probably take a while before the flashes stopped. Truthfully, he waited for that time eagerly because he really needed to stop taking the pepper-ups. He could really see how it was affecting him. Perhaps he could just take a dreamless sleep before he went to bed and be well-rested for the morning. That would possibly work.
Sighing, he walked behind Ron, silently questioning how the foreign students were to enter the beauty called Hogwarts. He figured his opinion was biased since he had always thought of this place as home since he first laid his eyes on it; no matter that 3 life-threatening situations had been enacted here, him starring the entire thing, but that could easily be discarded if he thought of all the beauty here and how it was his escape in the Magical World, where the Dursleys' couldn't reach him and he could be free. Well mostly, but that was discarded in his mind. It didn't help to dwell on everything negative all the time, not when he was supposed to be working on fixing his life.
'Stop distracting yourself', his brain whispered to him harshly. Shaking his head, he surveyed the crowd that they were approaching, noting the fact that the Headmaster was at the front, beacon in his ghastly robes.
He was really to tired to even care about all of this right now.
Shocked exclamations and startled shouts got his attention, and he looked up, straining to see what caused the commotion. A large carriage pulled by 4 large, winged horses came into view, and he stared at the gorgeous creatures. They came to a landing on the ground, stomping their feet on the ground wildly. Hagrid lumbered up to them, grabbing their reins as a means to calm them.
A large woman, larger than Hagrid, came out of the carriage, followed by a group of girls in blue outfits; they shivered when they came into contact with the harsh and cold gusts of Scottish Winds; obviously their outfits provided next to no warmth.
Dumbledore gave a benign smile, his blue eyes twinkling madly. "Madame Maxine, how lovely to see you again my dear." He kissed the knuckles on her right hand, her hand filled with large golden rings weighed with thick jewels.
"Dumblydore, pleasure to make your acquaintance once more."
Astaron only rolls his eyes and watches carefully to see how the other school -Durmstrang- is going to arrive. Soon enough, the water of the Black Lake begins bubbling and chatters rise from the students. Slowly, a ship begins emerging and Astaron doesn't even try to conceal his awe. That kind of spellwork took immense skill and power, of that he had no doubt.
A group of males came out, dressed in thick coats with heavy furs. Ron gasped, and he turned to his best friend, trying to figure out why he gasped. Following his line of sight, a familiar figure came was spotted next to the Headmaster of Durmstrang; his mind worked into a flurry for a split second before he recognized the form. 'Krum. Ron's celebrity crush. I wonder how jealous Blaise is going to be of this…'
Snickering at his thoughts, he stared at the figure. Astaron jumped when Ron gave his arm a sharp pinch. He hissed, glaring at his friend who didn't seem to notice. "Harry- it's Krum!"
Astaron rolled his eyes.
OoOoOoOoOoO
Ron was fangirling, fanboying, whatever it was called, about Krum for the entire beginning of dinner. The Durmstrang students sat down with the Slytherins, much to Ron's distress. The Beauxbatons students seated themselves with the Ravenclaw students, where they seemed to be eating dainty meals and eating just as delicately. Astaron occasionally watched them, trying to survey their reactions to Hogwarts, as well as if they had anything interesting in their colorful hues.
Most Durmstrang students all had hues tainted with a deep purple but occasionally lit up with other colors, like yellowy-gold, darker pink, navy blue, black, and forest green. The Beauxbatons students all had soft peach hues with sprinklings of a multitude of different colors, so much so that Astaron couldn't even begin to figure out what color was what.
He sighed quietly, and twirled his cup, sipping the pumpkin juice lightly; it tasted like heavily diluted orange juice with a container of cinnamon and nutmeg. In other words, like the most disgusting thing on the planet. His plate had already been cleared of his food, some chicken and mashed potatoes with gravy. He had deduced that he needed to figure out where the kitchens are so he can ask the house-elves about getting raw meat. He couldn't very well prey on students for a drink; Astaron doubted that Draco would be available every time he had a craving of blood too.
After the feast, Dumbledore stood up and the crowded hall became silent. Filch approached Dumbledore carrying a great wooden chest encrusted with jewels. It looked extremely old. A murmur of excited interest rose from the watching students.
"The instructions for the tasks the champions will face this year have already been examined by Mr. Crouch and Mr. Bagman," Dumbledore said as Filch placed the chest carefully on the table before him, "and they have made the necessary arrangements for each challenge. There will be three tasks, spaced throughout the school year, and they will test the champions in many different ways …their magical prowess—their daring—their power of deduction—and, of course, their ability to cope with danger."
At this last word, the Hall was filled with a silence so absolute that nobody seemed to be breathing. Out of the corner of his eyes Astaron saw a boy next to Krum, whisper something to him.
"As you know, three champions compete in the tournament, one from each of the participating schools. They will be marked on how well they perform each of the tournament tasks and the champion with the highest total after task three will win the Triwizard Cup. The champion will be chosen by an impartial selector: the Goblet of Fire."
Dumbledore took out his wand and tapped three times upon the top of the casket. It disappeared slowly, revealing a large, roughly hewn wooden cup filled to the brim with a dancing blue-white fire.
"Anybody wishing to submit themselves as champion must write their name and school clearly upon a slip of parchment and drop it into the goblet," Dumbledore said. "Tomorrow night, Halloween, the goblet will return the names of the three it has judged most worthy to represent their schools. The goblet will be placed in the entrance hall tonight; where it will be freely accessible to all those wishing to compete. To ensure that no underage students yields to temptation, I will be drawing an Age Line around the Goblet of Fire. Nobody under the age of seventeen will be able to cross the line."
Outrage roar from the underage students, but Astaron didn't care. He had about 50 different things to deal with, and the Triwizard Tournament was nowhere on his list.
So he simply tuned out to the rest of Dumbledore's speech and turned his attention to more pressing matters.
OoOoOoOoOoO
Ron slumped on his bed, blue eyes wandering around his dorm room. Harry -Astaron- was taking forever in the shower. He vaguely wondered if his creature inheritance had something to do with it. Sighing, he rubbed his eyes, not entirely sure what to do with all the information that he had been given during the Quidditch World Cup. He had mostly just kept it from entering his thoughts by distracting himself with a multitude of things… now it didn't seem to be working.
The sound of the door opening threw him from his mind, and he stared at his best friend. He would have to see Blaise tomorrow and ask for his help. Ron's cheeks flushed slightly at the thought of his other.
"What's got you blushing like that?" His eyes shifted to Harry -Astaron, Astaron, he was having a tough time remembering this for some reason- and he shoved his face into his pillow, mumbling an answer. "What was that?" He sounded much closer than before….
Ron looked up, only to fall off his bed when he saw green eyes peering at him, 3 inches from his pillow. "Bloody Hell, mate! Why'd you do that?" He was only met with a cheeky grin and amused eyes.
Groaning, he faceplanted on his bed.
OoOoOoOoOoOoO
Excited chattering filled the Great Hall, as all the students spoke excitedly about. Astaron picked at the food on his plate, his stomach churning uncomfortably. Flicking his eyes upward, they were met with gleaming silver orbs and a smile briefly lit up his face. Draco, his gorgeous mate, smiled, his eyes softening and filling with an emotion that Astaron wasn't familiar with.
The Goblet of Fire stood proudly in front of the Staff Table, surrounded a mixed aura of ocean blue, honey-gold, lime green, and flacks of white. It gave Astaron a massive headache if he was near it, so he pointedly stayed away from it the entire time it was out. The entirety of the day he had kept headache relievers on his person to drain when he had to go near it. Ron and Amaya had given him concerned glances when he drank them, or kept his eyes closed when he walked near and past the Goblet.
The golden plates they were eating off of went spotless, causing Ron to make a very undignified noise.
A loud hush suddenly went over the hall, and Astaron swiveled around, watching as Dumbledore went to the Goblet. On either side of him, were Karkaroff and Madame Maxine; the former tense and blank-faced, the latter also tense but expectant. Crouch looked bored and Bagman had a look of childish excitement as he winked at several of the students.
Astaron watched, excitement stirring in his gut with this queasy anxiousness, at the Goblet turned from blue to red. A piece of charred paper was spat out by a flame, fluttering in the air for a few seconds before Dumbledore caught it.
"The Durmstrang Champion is… Viktor Krum!" Ron cheered in his ear, causing Astaron to wince, though he still clapped for the Bulgarian Seeker. Hunched, Krum made his way over, walking next to the staff table and went through a little door to a chamber, his headmaster following right behind him.
The Goblet sparked red again and a little blue paper twirled in the air, again finding itself in Dumbledore's hands. "The Beauxbatons Champion is… Fleur Delacour!" The blonde girl, who most certainly descended from a veela, strolled up with a pleased look on her face; Madame Maxine looked proud, and both went into the little chamber on the side of the Hall.
Every Hogwarts student seemed to be silent, waiting for the last champion to be called. Finally, the Goblet sparked red and one last piece of parchment flew out. Dumbledore caught it, and Astaron thought he saw something akin to disappointment in Dumbledore's eyes before replacing itself with pride. "The Hogwarts Champion is… Cedric Diggory!"
Ron shouted that sounded like 'No!' but Astaron was pretty sure he was the only one who heard it. Every Hufflepuff was either clapping, shouting, stamping, or doing all of the above, as Cedric made his way to the chamber, his chest puffed out in pride.
Dumbledore gave his grandfatherly smile, his blue eyes twinkling madly; it took everything in Astaron not to attack him right then and there, so he settled for seething quietly. He really had to get in control of his murderous thoughts… "Excellent! Well, now that we have three champions, I am positive that they will receive every ounce of encouragement each student here can muster up, including Durmstrang and Beauxbatons students. By cheering for your champion, you will not only contribute in a very re-" Dumbledore stopped speaking and everybody in the Hall knew why.
The Goblet turned red, spitting out another piece of paper. Astaron got a sinking feeling in his gut, and the queasy anxiousness came back full force; he wondered if his food was going to come back up and if Professor Snape carried a Stomach Soother on hand.
Dumbledore stared at the paper for a few moments before calling out the name. The room seemed to start spinning.
"Harry Potter!"
A/N - The Real story starts now...
