Disclaimer – I do not own Harry Potter, only the plot.
Harry James Potter, a mere boy of twelve is the youngest ever champion in the Triwizard tournament. He along with three others, the three of them being old enough to be allowed in the competition; are competing for the grand prize of one thousand galleons. The hefty sum probably seeming a little too realistic for the boy who survived He Who Shall Not Be Named's evil attack, the same attack that cost him his parents. Will the pressure cause this little hero to crack? Over the next months we shall see so be sure to pick up a copy of The Daily Prophet everyday or you could subscribe to us by sending a cheque for the appropriate sum of money to:
The Daily Prophet Department
Building 2345
Kellydoggons Avenue
Hogsmeade
The three other champions are; Cedric Diggory, a typical Hogwarts pin up. Victor Krum, the Bulgarian Seeker who caught the snitch at the Quidditch World Cup Final earlier this year and Felicity Delacour, a stereotypically beautiful dumb blonde from Beauxbaton's.
Toodles, Rita Skeeter
"Feleecity?" a voice exclaimed while shoving a copy of The Daily Prophet under Cedric's nose. He looked up from his pile of buttered toast into the eyes of a very angry stereotypically beautiful blonde girl.
"Perhaps it was a printing error." Cedric offered as he picked the paper up out of his breakfast and brushed it off.
"You meen you have read zis?" Fleur cried while seating herself opposite him and between two very excited looking third years, "And you did not tell me!"
"I didn't want to cause a fuss – everybody knows that Rita Skeeter is a malicious snake." He told her reassuringly, offering her a slice of his breakfast. She shocked him by taking two and promptly shoving one down her throat. It was not what he had expected from a girl who had shown such exemplary manners in every other aspect.
"How hard eez eet to remember a five letter name?" She moaned polishing off the second slice and reaching for another. Cedric glanced down at his plate to find it empty.
"Hungry?" he asked, eyebrows raised. It made a nice change for him to see a girl from Beauxbaton's eat, all the other girls had simply made a huge fuss about the 'wonderful' food back home and then fixed themselves up a plate of salad each day. She glared at him and piled another round on to his plate.
"So you mean you aren't annoyed about the fact that she called you a 'pretty dumb blonde' only that she didn't remember your name?" He asked re-reading the article and quoting from it.
"She said what?" The paper was snatched out of his hands and he took two slices of the toast that Fleur has picked up. He watched and listened amused to the high-pitched gasps and squeals coming from behind the newspaper. He could see the silvery eyebrows moving further and further into her hairline as well. The photo on the front was one of the four champions standing in a line next to Ludo Bagman. He couldn't help but notice how Fleur seemed to fit perfectly next to him. He had never noticed how small framed and fragile she looked either. He glanced at her hands and wrists holding the paper taking in how small and pale they were. 'Perfect' he thought. He shook himself from his dream like state and scolded himself mentally for having such thought about a person he now considered to be his friend.
"I never read zat far down," she sighed sadly, folding the newspaper back up.
"She doesn't know what she is talking about," He told her absent-mindly as he remembered how Fleur was even smaller than the last girl he went out with on a date. Joanna DeVall who was 5' 4". He would be lying if he said that height and frame were not high on his list of things that he looked for in a girl.
"I'm not dumb." She said sincerely, he realized that she really cared about what people thought of her in this school and not only about her looks.
"Fleur, I know you aren't stupid, if anything you're exactly the opposite," he told her just as sincerely. Fleur smiled and she instantly seemed to perk up. Cedric noticed this, he seemed to be noticing far too much about her recently and her height, or rather lack of height didn't seem to want to leave his thought process anytime soon. He tried to remember back to when she was standing. In his opinion she had to be 5'3" at least, any smaller and he surely wouldn't be able to stop thinking about her.
"Fleur, how tall are you?" he asked before he could stop himself. She glanced up from her copy of the prophet.
"Five foot two."
A/N – Hey everybody, I am terribly sorry that this chapter is so short. I have more written but I wrote it while on a plane and now looking back at it, I can see it is the worst thing I have ever written so I'll go back and change that. I am just about to start replying to all of your lovely reviews. They were amazing to read after I got back, thanks!
Hope you all are well;
LJ
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