Abby P.O.V
I'm walking in the hallway in my freshly laundered robes heading to Transfiguration on the third floor.
Hufflepuffs, Ravenclaws and Gryffindors glare at me when I pass by them.
But, Slytherins tend to applaud me every time that I enter the room or pass by them in the hall.
The hall clears and I see the classroom in the distance, I shift in my robes feeling an overwhelming sense of dread when I grow nearer.
There Gryffindors line one wall, their gaze shifting from one another to me, their once smiling faces now frowning when I entered the room.
Astoria gives them a death glare before beckoning me to follow her to our seats.
"Just ignore them Abby. You're going to beat Potter anyways," she says, giving me a small smile.
"We'll see Astoria..."
Yesterday so many things happened that all crowded me at once.
It was no surprise to me that as soon as I set foot in that trophy room I was bombarded with questions about how I got in.
The truth is- I never even touched the goblet or the piece of paper that my name was written on.
Nor did I have any idea of who put my name into the goblet, why me?
I'm not special.
I'm not well known.
I'm just a girl who's trying to survive the unique normality that is Hogwarts.
I never wanted to be in the stupid Triwizard Tournament, I wasn't looking for the spotlight.
I gave up on that.
Sure at first I wanted to be the head of Hogwarts, I wanted everyone to know my name.
But, that was just a childish dream that apparently came true.
Now that I have Hermione I couldn't want anything else.
Yet the spotlight found me and I wasn't searching for it.
Isn't that how it usually goes?
Someone who seems normal and not special somehow gets the fame poured into them.
I mean look at Potter.
He was just a baby when he was deemed the most famous child in all of the wizarding world.
They believed that somehow a one year old child defeated the infamous Lord Voldemort aka the dark lord aka he-who-shall-not-be-named or more simply you-know-who.
It makes sense why he's entered into the tournament-either he entered his name into the goblet somehow and wanted to gain even more publicity or someone has put his name in and they're trying to kill him.
Again.
But who would be powerful enough to confound a powerful magical object?
I still couldn't think of anyone that would make sense, perhaps I should ask Hermione for her input I mean after all-
"Miss. Yaxley?" Professor McGonagall says.
I shake my head glancing at the stern teacher.
"Mr. Creevy has a message for you," she tells me once I realize she really was talking to me.
I glance at the third year Gryffindor.
"T-the C-champions are required to m-meet upstairs," he says shaking, his eyes never meeting mine.
Once Professor McGonagall nods to me and Creevy she turns away and walks back to her desk.
"Oh quit your whimpering," I murmured standing up and gathering my things.
I smile at Astoria rolling my eyes before I leave the Transfiguration classroom.
The Gryffindor leads me upstairs to a room where the other champions had been gathered.
There were no professors inside the room, instead the photographer from the Daily Prophet stood adjusting his camera.
Rita Skeeter herself stood talking to Cedric Diggory animatedly, him looking rather unamused at what she was saying.
Harry Potter comes in a minute after me standing beside me.
"I know your secret Yaxley," he murmurs quietly enough just so he and I can hear it.
"Oh yeah? And what's that Potter?"
"You love Hermione," he says even quieter, the name rolling off of his tongue like poisoned honey.
I stare speechless wondering if he was bluffing or if he truly knew that was the case.
I mean Hermione wouldn't be dense enough to tell him or Weaselbee-would she?
She's clever enough to keep it from everyone else, why not Potter as well?
"Don't worry-I'm not going to tell anyone since Hermione's one of my best friends and you're only temporary," he chuckles, smirking at my expression.
"You're dead Potter I hope you know that," I growled.
He leaned in close to me.
"I count on it Yaxley," his eyes grazed my lips before looking into my eyes.
The condescending ass of Potter left me where I was just as Rita Skeeter called him over for an interview.
Cedric soon took his place.
"Diggory? What do you want?" I ask him groaning.
His eyes locked with mine, his golden irises never leaving my own blue.
"I was wondering...are you still with that Malfoy kid?"
For a boy whom I've never spoken to before and who has never spoken to me, he speaks with such confidence that it makes me feel like I've known him forever.
I nod.
"Yes, why do you want to know?" I ask him, narrowing my eyes with suspicion.
"Well...if you feel like you ever need a better companion...I'm always open," he smirks.
What is it with these jerks?
I'm not interested, nor will I ever be, I mean I don't even really like Draco so why would I like another guy?
"I'm sorry?" Is all I could come up with the shock still lingering as the tall Hufflepuff looked down at me.
"It's a shame that you're still with him, I could be better, you know?"
"Wow Diggory, I thought you belonged to Hufflepuff..." I say looking at him with my arms crossed. "Here you're acting like I'd ever be interested in you."
"You're not?" Cedric raises an eyebrow. "You don't find me stunningly attractive?"
I snort at this.
"Excuse me-but you're not exactly my type so...maybe you should leave me alone before I tell people who you really are...I mean I'm a Yaxley I can make things happen." I growl at the Hufflepuff.
"You won't get this chance again," he rolls his eyes at me.
"Okay? I don't care," I shrug my shoulders wiggling my fingers at him as he turned away, his robes swaying behind him.
Professor Dumbledore chose that moment to enter the room and almost immediately he headed to the broom closet.
Out came Rita Skeeter and Harry Potter: who was looking quite harassed.
"It's time for the wand weighing," Professor Dumbledore announces and indicates towards a man who I didn't notice was there in the room.
smiled at Professor Dumbledore before taking a seat or the table off to the side.
The camera equipment on it was now cleared and assembled, now a long carpet of velvet laid- just like the velvet that my wand came in.
had given me my wand when I was eleven years old just as he had mostly everyone in this room.
He makes a motion to Fleur's wand, he checks it over then with a wave he produces a large bouquet of flowers.
Next was Krum, then Cedric, Harry and finally me.
My 13" inch Rosewood wand with a single Unicorn hair inside was beautifully polished, the wood gleaming against the velvet I set it on.
"Ah~Miss. Yaxley, I remember giving this wand to you," he murmurs. "A quite unique wand this is~"
The other champions lean in to eavesdrop on our conversation.
"I take very good care of my wand ," I say.
"I can tell...you would have been wonderful in Ravenclaw with a mind like yours...the wand of the Grey Lady herself...yet you are in Slytherin," he says, turning my wand over in his hands.
I don't say anything, feeling almost ashamed when he makes this comment.
But I'm proud of my house regardless of what anyone says.
It was my fathers as well as my mothers.
I'm a legacy... even if I did go to Beauxbatons for my first two years of schooling.
He waves my wand and a spout of silver mist bursts from the top.
"It's in good shape," he says, handing it back to me.
I thank him before turning around the other champions staring insistently away from me.
We were lined up, the oldest champions in the back and the youngest- Harry and I - in the front.
After about an hour of group photos we were forced to take individual photos before we were allowed to leave for our next classes.
With a final glare directed to Harry and Cedric; I left the room and went to find Astoria.
