THE POTTER TWINS AND THE TRIWIZARD TOURNAMENT
CHAPTER 3:
AUTHOR'S NOTE: EVERYONE, THIS THE THIRD CHAPTER OF THE STORY, AMNY THINGS LIKE SIRIUS BEING FREE, CROOKSHANKS BEING THE POTTER'S CAT COME FROM MY OTHER STORY,"THE TWINS WHO LIVED" PLEASE ENJOY THIS CHAPTER AND LEAVE YOUR COMMENTS AND REVIEWS FOR MY IMPROVEMENT,
TILL THE NEXT CHAPTER,
ALYNA.
"Hermione, The first task, that's what I am worried about," Hazel and Hermione were sitting in the Great Hall for breakfast.
Hazel hadn't touched a thing, she hadn't eaten anything, her face was pale and her eyes had dark circles. She hadn't slept much, She was actaully worried about something else too but she wanted to talk to Harry firs.
"Good morning," Harry sat next to her,
He also looked tired and groggy. The owls flooded in, Hedwig, Harry and Hazel's shared owl came in. It had a letter. It was a howler.
"Look, The Potters got themselves a howler." Aboy from Harry's dormitory said.
Everyone was now looking at both of them, Hazel slowly opened it. It was from Sirius.
"HARRY POTTER AND HAZEL POTTER, HOW DARE YOU PUT YOUR NAME IN THE GOBLET? WAS IT YOU HARRY?"
The letter turned to face Harry, Harry shook his head at it.
"WAS IT YOU HAZEL?"
Everyone was now staring at them, Hazel scared from the shock in Sirius's voice, shook her slightly.
"BECAUSE THAT WAS BLOODY BRILLIANT..."
"THE LANGUAGE, PADFOOT, LANGUAGE, EVERYONE AT HOGWARTS IS LISTENING." This was Remus Lupin, their other Godfather.
"WELL. CONGRATULATIONS, BOTH OF YOU, YOU PROVED TO BE TRULY JAMES'S KIDS" Sirius continued.
"But be careful, both of you." Remus said slowly.
The letter tore it's self into pieces and disappeared. Hazel sighed, They could always rely on Sirius to be proud of something like this.
"I have to go to the Library, see you later, both of you," Hermione remembered something and jumped up.
"Where's Ron?" Hazel asked.
"He's sleeping."
"Still?"
"He didn't believe me, Hazel, just like everybody."
"He'll come round, Harry, I bet he's just feeling..." Hazel tried to say something." Never mind.
"No... say it, What?" Harry looked at her curiously.
"He's feeling left out, like always, Harry, His brother get all the attention at home and being friends with us doesn't exactly help."
"But I don't want..."
"Not wanting doesn't make it go away," Hazel clicked impatiently." Just talk to him."
Hazel picked up a quill and started writing back to Sirius, as she finished the letter, she turned to go to the Owlery to find Hedwig. Harry followed her.
"Hazey, did you have a dream last night?"
"The muggle man, talking to Voldemort and Pettigrew and stuff?" Hazel tried to talk it off as a joke.
"Yes, Do you think Pettigrew is on the loose?"
"Maybe, We can ask Sirius to check up at the Auror's Office." Hazel motioned to Hedwig, who was hooting loudly in a corner.
Hedwig took the letter from Hazel, who stroked her feathers, she took off flapping her wings.
"Do you think, it means something?" Hazel asked.
"I guess."
They walked out of the Owlery together when Colin Creeevey stopped them at the end of the corridor.
"Harry, Hazel," He was panting. "You two have to go to the ... in the... Ludo Bagman... Photos."
Harry and Hazel waited for him to catch his breath and followed his instructions to a classroom.
Viktor Krum was standing moodily in a corner as usual and not talking to anybody. Cedric and Fleur were in conversation. Fleur looked a good deal happier than Harry had seen her so far; she kept throwing back her head so that her long silvery hair caught the light. A paunchy man, holding a large black camera that was smoking slightly, was watching Fleur out of the corner of his eye.
Bagman suddenly spotted Harry, got up quickly, and bounded forward. "Ah, here he is! Champion number four! In you come, Harry, in you come . . . nothing to worry about, it's just the wand weighing ceremony, the rest of the judges will be here in a moment —"
Hazel entered after him,
"And ofcourse, Hazel, the Fifth Champion, but both to compete together."
"We have to check that your wands are fully functional, no problems, you know, as they're your most important tools in the tasks ahead," said Bagman. "The expert's upstairs now with Dumbledore. And then there's going to be a little photo shoot. This is Rita Skeeter," he added, gesturing toward the witch in magenta robes. "She's doing a small piece on the tournament for the Daily Prophet. . . ."
"Maybe not that small, Ludo," said Rita Skeeter, her eyes on Harry, then they moved towards Hazel.
"I wonder if I could have a little word with Harry, and then Hazel, before we start?" she said to Bagman, but still gazing fixedly at Harry. "The youngest champion, you know . . . to add a bit of color?"
"Certainly!" cried Bagman. "That is — if Harry has no objection?"
"Er —" said Harry.
"Lovely," said Rita Skeeter, and in a second, her scarlet-taloned fingers had Harry's upper arm in a surprisingly strong grip, and she was steering him out of the room again and opening a nearby door.
"I am coming with him," Hazel said firmly.
"Protective sister, I see."
Harry and Hazel shared a look, Both of there eyebrows were up, it was a look that meant both of them didn't trust this woman.
"We don't want to be in there with all that noise," she said. "Let's see . . . ah, yes, this is nice and cozy."
It was a broom cupboard. Harry stared at her.
"A broom cupboard." Hazel scoffed.
"Yes, dear. Feeling uncomfortable." Rita said." I meant to talk to both of you alone, separately."
"I don't want her to go." Harry told her.
"Of course, a twin thing," She said.
"Let's see now . . ." She unsnapped her crocodile-skin handbag and pulled out a handful of candles, which she lit with a wave of her wand and magicked into midair, so that they could see what they were doing. "You won't mind, if I use a Quick-Quotes Quill? It leaves me free to talk to you normally. . . ."
"So, . . what made you decide to enter the Triwizard Tournament?"
"Er —" said Harry again,
but he was distracted by the quill. Even though he wasn't speaking, it was dashing across the parchment, and in its wake he could make out a fresh sentence:
An ugly scar, souvenir of a tragic past, disfigures the otherwise charming face of Harry Potter, whose eyes —
"Ignore the quill, Harry," said Rita Skeeter firmly. Reluctantly, Harry looked up at her instead. "Now — why did you two decide to enter the tournament, and together"
"We didn't," said Harry. "I don't know how our name got into the Goblet of Fire. I didn't put it in there. Neither did she" Harry pointed to Hazel who was staring at Skeeter with an odd expression on her face.
Rita Skeeter raised one heavily penciled eyebrow. "Come now, Harry,and I am sure, the boys do this, and your sister got dragged into it, there's no need to be scared of getting into trouble. We all know you shouldn't really have entered at all. But don't worry about that. Our readers love a rebel."
"But I didn't enter," Harry repeated. "I don't know who —"
"Harry didn't put our names in to the Goblet and neither did I." Hazel told her firmly," you are practically accusing us."
The quill whizzed across the parchment between them, back and forward as though it were skating.
"Of course, you've looked death in the face, haven't you?" said Rita Skeeter, watching him closely. "How would you say that's affected you?"
"Er," said Harry, yet again. "Do you think that the trauma in your past might have made you keen to prove yourself? To live up to your name? Do you think that perhaps you were tempted to enter the Triwizard Tournament because —"
"I didn't enter," said Harry, starting to feel irritated.
"Can you remember your parents at all?" said Rita Skeeter, talking over him.
"No, we were barely one year old AND WE DON'T WANT TO PROVE ANYTHING, we have a perfect family with our God fathers." Hazel's temper started working itself up.
When she was angry not not even Harry could calm her down.
Tears fill those startling green eyes as our conversation turns to the parents they can barely remember. The quill kept on writing.
"I have NOT got tears in my eyes!" said Harry loudly.
Before Rita Skeeter could say a word, the door of the broom cupboard was pulled open. Harry looked around, blinking in the bright light. Albus Dumbledore stood there, looking down at both of them, squashed into the cupboard.
"Dumbledore!" cried Rita Skeeter, with every appearance of delight — but Harry noticed that her quill and the parchment had disappeared.
"Enchantingly nasty," said Dumbledore, his eyes twinkling. The Weighing of the Wands is about to start, and it cannot take place if two of our champions are hidden in a broom cupboard."