A/N: Okay Draco's gonna be a moron...in a good way...kinda, and, okay there's nothign to say about this. Only I'll be posting the next chapter on Thursday so we can get to the good part.
As they entered the Great Hall Alex sighed and rolled her eyes at the stupid antics of her fellow schoolmates. Who was this ugly, creepy-looking boy?
"Ha," she said smugly as they made their way over to their table, "half of your chances have flown away."
"What?" Blaise asked, glancing at her like she had lost her mind.
"Not you." She scoffed.
"So?" Draco said, glancing at the Beauxbatons students, all huddled together at the Ravenclaw table, for warmth apparently, with complete unconcern. "I didn't expect them to try and join us."
The group, which had expanded to include Pansy and Milli, both of whom looked ready to take Professor Snape's words to heart, found seats at the end of the rest of the Slytherins. The Durmstrang students were still gathering around the door, apparently unsure about where they should sit.
The boys leaned in together, as if having a conference. One of them gestured towards the empty space at the end of the Hufflepuff table but then Draco reached out and pinched Alex's butt.
She whirled and shrieked, "MALFOY!"
He started laughing. "You've just won my bet for me, Alex."
And sure enough the conference had ended and the Durmstrang students were finding seats next to the Slytherins.
"Now had over my money." A pale hand appeared in her still red-tinted vision and Alex growled, completely turning her back to the newcomers as she glared at Draco. He exchanged a smug grin with Crabbe and Goyle while she counted the money into his hand.
"You're going to pay for that, Malfoy." She bit out.
"You're Draco Malfoy?" one of the newcomers interrupted.
While only the heads of his group actually turned to look down at the Durmstrang boys, Alex knew most of the table was listening in on this conversation.
"I am." Draco said coldly.
"It's an honor to meet you." The boy continued, interest, awe and greed threading through his voice. "Isn't it, Viktor?" he leaned over the table towards the boy that everyone else seemed to know.
"I think perhaps, it is a toss up which is more of an honor, to be graced with the presence of a Malfoy or that of a Bellmonte." The supposedly famous, (but still ugly!), boy turned to Alex with a slight smile.
She met his gaze coldly, only polite disinterest lurking there. "You obviously know who I am, as most do, but I'm afraid I have absolutely no idea who you are or why I should allow you to sit at my table much less speak to me."
Every Durmstrang students gasped, as did some of the Slytherins. From behind her Alex felt Draco's amusement and approval.
"My apologies, Lady." He bowed over the table to her. "I am Viktor Krum."
"Why do you say your name like the mere mention of it should clear up everything?" Alex asked, a little less harshly due to his wonderful manners.
Now some of Viktor's fellow students were smirking, as if it pleased them to see him so spoken to. They began to shed their cloaks and settle in.
"I…" Viktor looked at a loss for words. "I am a Seeker, in professional Quidditch, Lady Bellmonte. Do you not follow the sport?"
"I'm afraid it holds little interest for me." Alex placed the name now, but she wasn't about to back down. "After all, to excel requires no practical skills that can be used outside of the sport, and the sport itself would not exist if everyone from my own class on down did not start acting like blind sheep whenever the subject is mentioned. Do you, perhaps, have anything else to recommend you?"
"I am afraid I do not." Viktor said sorrowfully, as if this was a great failing of his. "I will endeavor to redeem myself to you."
"You may do as you wish, but I am not easily swayed, I promise you."
"I believe I can vouch for that." Draco said. "For I managed to give insult to her early last summer and I have yet to even earn the right to beg for my forgiveness."
When all the students had entered the Hall and settled down at their House tables, the staff entered, filing up to the top table and taking their seats. Last in line were Professor Dumbledore, Professor Karkaroff, and Madame Maxime. When their headmistress appeared, the pupils from Beauxbatons leapt to their feet. A few of the Hogwarts students laughed.
"Idiots." Blaise muttered. "Just because someone else has manners you don't…"
The Beauxbatons party appeared quite unembarrassed, however, and did not resume their seats until Madame Maxime had sat down on Dumbledore's left-hand side. Dumbledore remained standing, and a silence fell over the Great Hall.
"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, ghosts and – most particularly, guests," said Dumbledore, beaming around at the foreign students. "I have the great pleasure in welcoming you all to Hogwarts. I hope and trust that your stay here will be both comfortable and enjoyable."
One of the Beauxbatons girls still clutching a muffler around her head gave what was unmistakably a derisive laugh.
"Well, I'd certainly call that worthy of 'insult for insult'." Pansy whispered maliciously.
"The tournament will be officially opened at the end of the feast," said Dumbledore. "I now invite you all the eat, drink, and make yourselves at home!"
He sat down and Karkaroff leaned forward at once and to engage him in conversation.
The plates in front of them filled with food as usual. The house-elves in the kitchen seemed to have pulled out all the stops; there was a greater variety of dishes in front of them than usual.
"Now, this, is more like it." Milli said with satisfaction in her voice as her gaze swept the food options.
Alex nodded. "Almost as sophisticated as home. Pass the bouillabaisse, please, Pansy."
It was as their eyes met over the heavy bowl that Pansy seemed to remember that she didn't like Alex. Alex just sent her a look that dared her to do something about it but Pansy, being a true Slytherin, refused to stoop so low as to dump the soup into Alex's lap, so the meal passed uneventfully.
Viktor seemed to think himself unworthy of speaking with her and the rest of his schoolmates didn't seem to have the courage to try their luck.
In fact, the only interesting things that happened all night were the arrivals of Ludo Bagman who sat on Professor Karkaroff's other side, while Mr. Crouch, Percy's boss, was next to Madame Maxime.
When the food had all been consumed and the golden plates had been wiped clean, Dumbledore stood up again.
"The moment has come," he said, smiling around at the sea of upturned faces. "The Triwizard Tournament is about to start. I would like to say a few words of explanation before we bring in the casket just to clarify the procedure that we will be following this year. But first, let me introduce, for those of you who do not know them, Mr. Bartemius Crouch, Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation" – there was a smattering of polite applause – "and Mr. Ludo Bagman, Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports."
There was a much louder round of applause for Bagman than for Crouch, perhaps because of his fame as a Beater, or simply because he looked so much more likeable. He acknowledged it with a jovial wave of his hand.
"Mr. Bagman and Mr. Crouch have worked tirelessly over the last few months on the arrangements for the Triwizard Tournament," the Headmaster continued, "and they will be joining myself, Professor Karkaroff, and Madame Maxime on the panel that will judge the champions' efforts. The casket, then, if you please, Mr. Filch."
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. Alex was affected by it despite herself. She exchanged animated glances with Blaise.
"The instructions for the tasks the champions will face this year have already been examined by Mr. Crouch and Mr. Bagman," said Dumbledore as Filch placed the chest carefully on the table before him, "and they will test the champions in many different ways…their magical prowess – their daring – their powers of deduction – and, of course, their ability to cope with danger."
By now the Hall was filled with a silence so absolute that nobody seemed to be breathing.
"As you know, three champions compete in the tournament," Dumbledore went on calmly, "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 champions will be chosen by an impartial selector: the Goblet of Fire."
Dumbledore now took out his wand and tapped three times upon the top of the casket. The lid creaked slowly open. Dumbledore reached inside it and pulled out a large, roughly hewn wooden cup. It would have been entirely unremarkable had it not been full to the brim with dancing blue white flames.
He closed the casket and placed the goblet carefully on top of it, where it would be clearly visible to everyone in the Hall.
"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," said Dumbledore. "Aspiring champions have twenty-four hours in which to put their names forward. 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 student yields to the temptation," added the serious wizard, "I will be drawing an Age Line around the Goblet of Fire once it has been placed in the entrance hall. Nobody under the age of seventeen will be able to cross this line.
"Finally, I wish to impress upon any of you wishing to compete that this tournament is not to be entered into lightly. Once a champion has been selected by the Goblet of Fire, he or she is obliged to see the tournament through to the end. The placing of your name in the goblet constitutes a binding, magical contract. There can be no change of heart once you have become champion. Please be very sure, therefore, that you are wholeheartedly prepared to play before you drop your name into the goblet. Now, I think it is time for bed. Good night to you all."
"An Age Line. An interesting way to enforce the rules." Draco commented absently, rising to his feet. "I wonder how many idiots are going to try and fool it."
"Oh I think at least two…from each House but Slytherin." Milli pointed across the room at a pair of matching red heads. "I think I spy the Gryffindor pair right now."
"I think you may be right, Mil. Care to wager again, Malfoy?" Alex grinned and they began to make their way towards Common Room. "I bet you one hundred galleons that someone underage will make it across the line."
"Planning on doing it yourself?" Draco asked, giving her a strange look.
"Not a chance. I'll be way too busy to do whatever little 'challenges' they think up."
"I accept your bet then, Bellmonte." Draco paused then smirked. "You do realize that the only way you can win is if the under-aged person actually makes it as champion?"
"Well, we could do it that way, or I could just set up a quick recording spell that'll tell me who steps over the age line. In fact, if you'll excuse me I need to hurry if I'm going to get that finished before anyone tries to put their names in the thing."
A/N: Okay so I know a LOT of that was stuff you should already know, all that talking about the champions and the goblet…blah blah blah. It ain't my fault!
In fact, here. Something to keep you amused so you won't yell at me.
The scene opens with a well dressed man, apparently a reporter or some kind of professional…something, sitting with the Authoress in the empty Great Hall.
"So, what you're saying is that this girl," he consulted his notes, "Alex Bellmonte, has an abusive relationship with her parents, loathes anyone who is in the other three Houses in the school, detests anyone in her own House who is of a lower class than her and hates anyone who is from a different school from her?"
The authoress nodded. "Exactly. Though 'lower class' is a relative term."
"Perhaps, but my point is…from where does this girl find her friends? You have her hating everybody."
"And when," a cold voice asked, "did we decide that I required friends?"
"Hey, Lex." RaineArilan grinned. "We were just talking about you."
"So I gathered." She swept her gaze over the reporter.
"Everyone needs friends." He said firmly.
RaineArilan grinned again. "You are brave, my good sir. Very brave."
"Brave?" he looked confused. "how so?"
"Oh I believe, that she thinks you acted bravely by saying what you just said to me…I think it was more ignorance than anything else." Alex grinned ferally. Her deadly furious eyes watching the man's every move. "You really shouldn't disagree with me you know."
"Oh come on, Alex! Don't kill him." The Authoress put in. "if he dies I won't get any publicity and without that I won't get any reviews. If I don't get reviews I won't keep writing the story…"
"Oh really?" Alex raised an eyebrow at the Authoress. "You won't?"
"Eeep. Ne'er mind. Carry on." Turning she mouthed, "Sorry" to the reporter before vanishing from the room.
"You know," Alex said all casual conversation as she moved closer to the man. "That's what I like about her. She knows when to save her own skin."