Title: Harveste Addams and the Goblet of Fire
Crossover: Harry Potter and the Addams Family
Summary: Let's have a little FUN this year, shall we?
Warning: Addams Family Sadism and Cross-dressing, Spoilers -do I have to write that?-
You guys took that longer reviews thing seriously, huh? Can I say I love you all? Totally do! You had me laughing at an ungodly time of morning XD.
MoonPrincess623, for the Idiot Four (Greengrass, Montague, Goyle and Bulstrode), I was choosing people who weren't on the Quidditch team as of yet. As you recall (or maybe not) Draco was in practice the first time they appeared. I'm anal about things like that. And there were Five, but as you know (and I'm damn sure everyone remembers) Vincent Crabbe got his. KCL, will you smite me if I say I've never watched the cartoons? I am basing ALL of this on the morbidly gaunt, yet ethereally beautiful face of Anjelica Huston. If you've not watched Dahl's The Witches, you should. Damn inspirational. Shura Magami, ask and you shalt receive. Re-read the last chapter please. In return, I have to use that villain line, please. Wednesday is begging me. Cheshire, , Sweet Smiles, you'll just have to see, won't you *evil smile*. Alexandraya, AKA Quin, I think my muses are in love with you and your manic madness. Shinrei04, knock yourself out. You could also try Harlem or Harridan, and I've seen Harcourt a time or two. I like Harlem :)
Did everyone like my rendition of the Mamushka? It had me in knots.
I can't believe Cedric got just three whole mentions in four installments and almost everyone's gung-ho about him! Draco, Hermione and Blaise are very jealous. They woke me up at five in the morning to tell me TO FIX IT NOW, YOU HORRIBLE HAG AND GIVE US MORE SCREEN TIME! Such lovely muses…
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-.-.-.-…-.-.-.-
Uncle Liverworth and Uncle Lumeno had seen them off at the station. Grandmama's Switch Solution rendered them completely unrecognizable by any means, but the first time Remus had taken one, he couldn't look at a cat for weeks, and Sirius still sported a strange purple rash.
They were in one of the carriages now. Draco and Blaise were looking over Grandmama's copy of Moste Potente Potions and gaping at the little notes she had scribbled into the margins.
"'Squeeze seven frogs'? That's disgusting!"
"Not as disgusting as 'lick a horse'."
"Fresh scabs? How the hell do you get fresh scabs?"
"Maybe it's crabs?"
"It's scabs."
Hermione was looking over a book of human rights. She had gone with her parents to France for most of the summer, so she had missed the Quidditch World Cup, but he had saved her a clipping from the newspaper. She had seen Twenty-four dead, raked down Six Ministry Officials, Eight Aurors, Four Unspeakables and Six Death Eaters, and simply sighed at him.
"You couldn't get Fudge?"
He hid a smile behind his fan. Around his neck, Deidre tightened her coils and put her head on top of his hair. "I'll keep him in mind next time, darling."
She ignored him. The hotel they had stayed at in France had introduced her to House Elves, and she was pissed about it for some unknown reason. She was studying about House Elf rights, of which there were none, and House Elf duties, of which there were many. He could see her mind ticking away, getting more and more furious at the indignity she assumed they slaved under. It would be no use trying to explain to her, and it was possibly unwise to mention that Wednesday had oh so particularly taken a liking to Kreacher, the Black house elf. He had his own little cubby beside Peter, and no amount of magic could get him out. His sister had the talent, and he was just a touch jealous about that.
That decided it for him. This year was for torture, and he knew exactly who to start with.
-.-.-.-…-.-.-.-
Draco and Blaise were still engrossed in the book, even when Hermione had peeled away to join the Gryffindors at their table. They weren't even eating.
"Look at this one, 'Half a stem of bamboo, don't forget the entrails'. I don't even want to know where that bamboo has been."
"I'm still stuck on 'lick a horse'."
Harry smiled around his cup. Ah, the good old days.
"'Cut the throat, not too deep, otherwise the scream won't come out right'. The hell?"
"There's a mention of a staple gun in here. What's that?"
"Baby fat? Baby fat?"
Over at the teachers' table, Dumbledore stood up and cleared his throat. Harry looked him over. He looked no worse than before he had gone for his impromptu vacation to Haiti last year. Aunt Dementia wasn't losing her touch, was she? The headmaster noticed his gaze, and the genial baby-blues hardened into steel. Harry smiled and inclined his head.
"-my painful duty to inform you that the Inter-House Quidditch Cup will not be taking place this year."
That got their attention. The entire Hall quietened, and both his friends looked up, eyes dark with mutiny.
"What did he say? Did he say what I thought he said? Can I kill him?"
"Perhaps later, Draco."
"This is due to an event that will be starting in October-"
"I'll kill him, I swear. Quidditch-"
"Er- Harveste, you wouldn't have any general antidote on you at the moment?"
"Why do you ask?"
Blaise looked at the furious expression on Draco's face. It had an edge to it, a something that had never been there before they had met the Addams family. "Coz I think he's going to poison the Headmaster."
"Really? What kind of poison do you think he'd like to use?"
Lightning crackled on the enchanted ceiling, and just as a deafening crash of thunder ripped through the air, the huge double doors swung open, and a misshapen chunk of a man walked through.
"Uncle Fester?"
Blaise's mouth dropped open. Surely the gods wouldn't be so cruel as to add another Addams into the already unstable concoction that was Hogwarts. Only an Addams could handle another Addams, and it was fortunate that the house that they lived in was created to withstand such specific spontaneity, but Hogwarts was old. One Addams was more than enough for it.
"Ah, just in time! Students, I would like to introduce your new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Alastor Moody!"
Blaise let out the breath he had been holding. Thank the gods.
Harry leaned forward, intrigued. The man looked positively gruesome. He was missing quite a bit of his nose, and he only had one ear and one eye, his deeply scarred face obscured by stringy, wet hair. One of his legs was a wooden claw and he was hunched over like the burden of the world had rolled over him once or twice. He was a Ministry Auror, one of the best, or so he had read. So what was he doing here? A glance at Dumbledore had him sitting back, delighted.
This man had been brought here for him. So Dumbledore wasn't as unaffected as he seemed. He would have to send Aunt Dementia some Cockroach Clusters.
-.-.-.-…-.-.-.-
"The Tri-Wizard Tournament, can you believe it!"
Draco had gotten over the lack of his precious Quidditch pretty quickly.
"It hasn't been held for over a century!"
"We know, Draco." Blaise sighed as they walked to their Herbology class.
"A competition! With Beauxbatons! And Durmstrang!"
"We know, Draco." Hermione said, rolling her eyes.
"There was a death toll! People died!"
"We know, Draco." Harry smiled from under his umbrella. "We can only hope it'll be the same this year."
Draco was still vibrating with excitement as they entered the green house. He was like Uncle Liverworth in that respect, and Blaise was Uncle Lumeno, but less gentle. Draco yelped at the sudden kick to his leg.
"Bubotubers." Professor Sprout said briskly. Harry perked up at the mention of pus.
"-can do funny things to the skin, undiluted-"
"You don't say."
"Harveste, get that out of your mouth this instant!"
-.-.-.-…-.-.-.-
Harry was still licking his lips when they headed for Care of Magical Creatures. Blaise had a disgusted look on his face.
"I can't believe you did that."
"You sound like my Mother, darling. Or you would, if Mother said anything like that."
They approached the fence where their Professor was standing. The rest of the class stood a little way away from them, as usual. Hagrid, cheerfully unaware of the class dynamic, rubbed his hands together before pointing at a few open wooden boxes at his feet. They were crawling with some sort of pale, shell-less life forms, slimy from hatching and glistening like a hospital's curse.
"Ever thought that maybe Hagrid's a long lost cousin of yours?" Hermione whispered to Harry.
"I wouldn't be surprised."
"Blast-Ended Skrewts!" Professor Rubeus Hagrid said with relish. The look in his eyes as he looked down on the weird creatures could only be summed up as adoration. "Jus' hatched! I thought you'd like ter raise 'em yerselves, make a project ou' of it!"
Blaise poked one with the end of his wand. It clacked at him angrily and shot off a flame that nearly roasted his eyebrows.
"Definitely a member of your family, Harveste. I'd bet money on it."
"Yer jus' feedin' 'em today. I've never had 'em before, so we got ant eggs and frog livers and bits o' grass snake- see which ones they go for."
Draco picked up a piece of liver fastidiously. "This is so demeaning – Harveste, this stuff is for the Skrewts, not you."
"It's so hard to get ant eggs around here. Alright, alright…here you go, my beauty…"
"Mister Addams, yer doin' well there! What're you feedin' 'em?"
"My blood, Professor." Harry said, smiling up at the half-giant. Another Skrewt scuttled over his hand and latched onto his thumb.
-.-.-.-…-.-.-.-
"Maybe we should've taken a leaf from Hermione's book and gotten out of this class." Blaise said, back in the sickly-sweet atmosphere of the Divination Tower.
He looked over at Harveste, then looked away quickly. His friend was carefully licking over the wounds he had received via the Skrewts. Hagrid had looked suitably shocked for about one-tenth of a second, then clapped his hands with delight as he saw his little creatures start molting in front of his eyes. When they had left, the ones who had tasted Addams blood were noticeably larger and darker than the others, and the last they had seen, the bigger ones had been advancing on the smaller. They were cannibals too, it seemed.
Draco had brought Granny Frump's book to class. Toe of a castrated arsonist, he was mouthing, forehead furrowed in concentration.
Harry was looking at Professor Trelawney as she explained the importance of mapping the stars. He wondered if his Astronomy Professor knew that Trelawney was encroaching on her subject. That would one fight worth watching. He had heard Professor Sinistra was a dab hand at the mace.
It was as if all his teachers had had their blindfolds whipped off this year, and now they were seeing what he could become. Professor McGonagall's eyes had been stern and unbending that morning, and Professor Snape as well, better than ever and just as bitter, though Harry had been considerate enough not to leave him any scars from last year. Professors Flitwick and Sprout had been unsure, but he was good at their class and didn't cause any trouble that they could see. Professor Trelawney walked in a haze of Forgetfulness Potions and Obliviates, so she talked and talked with no memory of what had happened during the last exams, but Healer Pomfrey had looked at him with calculating eyes. He had heard that she had been in the midst of the wars, but no one was quite sure which side she had been on. The Pomfreys were an old family, never having declared for either Dark or Light. Someone to watch, definitely.
He could hear the stones of the castle whisper as he walked by, voices chanting over and over. Dark Lord, Dark Lord, like Voldemort…He was sure Dumbledore was behind it. It was a sign of old age, being obtuse and hard-headed. The Heamaster stood steadfast in the assurance that there was a straight line to the future, that the way put forward was the only way. He was like Lucius Malfoy in that respect. The man had been frightened that night they had visited, but proud and power-hungry. Harry could respect that; every dark of the moon, he himself hungered for the Power. But unlike them, he knew there was a third path, or maybe even a fourth, or a fifth. Possibilities were endless, and a single prophecy didn't change that, because the future was fluid, changeable, malleable. He had changed his future, so why couldn't they?
He was sure the Headmaster would try to coerce him into fighting old Tom. He had every intention to, but Dumbledore didn't need to know that. He wanted the Light to win over the Dark, but Harry was on the side of Blood, and no matter what manner of Auror was thrown at him, he would just kill them, glorify in their death, and move on.
-.-.-.-…-.-.-.-
Well, well. Polyjuice Potion, was it? He had been around Grandmama long enough to recognize the smell of boiled leeches. He wondered whether Dumbledore knew. Harry gazed with new eyes at their Defense Professor as he stomped up and down the front of the class, shouting about CONSTANT VIGILANCE.
"He's quite enthusiastic, isn't he?" Draco whispered. His hand was acting as a bookmark in the Moste Potente Potions. It seemed Grandmama had found a convert. He would look forward to whatever they cooked up next summer. It would be exciting to say the least.
"There'll be no gossiping in my class, laddie!"
A spell tore through the room and hit Draco. It turned him into a small white ferret.
Harry blinked down at him for a long moment, and then gathered his transformed friend into his lap. There was an indignant squeak. Blaise, horrified as he was, had to muffle a laugh.
"Leave it!" Moody growled, clanking up to them.
"Why? He looks adorable." There was another squeak, now furious, and Draco bit at Harry's fingers. "Too adorable."
"Cute or not, there'll be none of that chit-chat here, not when I'm teaching. Understood?"
"As you say, Professor." There was another bang, and Harry found himself with a lapful of red-faced Draco. "Comfortable, darling?"
"It's always me that has to be put in these embarrassing situations…" Their blond friend groaned, scrambling off quickly. His dignity had evaporated a long, long time ago.
"Hush, Draco." Harry said smilingly as the sullen Auror retreated back behind his desk.
Blaise was trying to stifle his laughter, and Draco glared at him. "You get on his lap next time and see how you like it, you ponce."
"I'll be glad to oblige," Harry turned his smile on Blaise, and he found his mirth drain away, replaced by a blush that reached the roots of his hair and he didn't know why.
"So - straight into it. Curses." Their teacher announced darkly in his scratchy growl. "According to the Ministry, I'm supposed to be teaching you countercurses, but Professor Dumbledore's got a higher opinion of your nerves. How are you supposed to defend yourself against something you've never seen? You need to be prepared. You need to be alert and watchful."
Harry's fingers slowly twirled a senbon and his eyes had that creepy thoughtful look that usually signaled an attack.
Whether it was for Harveste's sake or Professor Moody's, Blaise didn't know, but after a moment, his hand grazed over the slim cold wrist. The brunette turned to him, the calculating look as impermeable as ever. But the senbon was put away, and Blaise breathed easier.
-.-.-.-…-.-.-.-
They were in the Slytherin common room, still talking about Professor Moody's class. Harry had been interested for a bit at the mention of the Cruciatus curse – having had it cast at him at least twice now – and it sounded worth experimenting with. Perhaps he would let it hit him some time.
The Killing Curse had been like some sort of lame joke. Why have the Imperius and the Cruciatus, only to insult your prey with an Avada Kedavra? Were wizards so frightened by their own mortality that they feared a simple and painless death? He knew of plenty down in the dungeons of his home who would beg for such an indulgence.
"The Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare!" Hermione was saying hotly, looking like she wanted to beat Draco over the head with her book bag. Knowing just how many books she had, it would be certain death. Harry paused his Transfiguration homework to watch.
"No matter how you want to say it, Hermione, it's not going to sound any better. It's still spew." Blaise pointed out, then ducked as Hermione growled and slashed at him with a butterfly knife. That reminded Harry about weapons practice. They would have to have one soon.
"What've we told you about letting Mudbloods in here, Addams?"
Hermione paused, her wrist caught in Blaise's hand. They had fallen on the couch and were in a very compromising position, but when faced with Four towering morons, position was the least of their worries.
"Anthony, Millicent, Daphne, Gregory. And the rest of the Slytherins as well. My, my, such a welcome." Harry stood up, dusting off his skirt. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"
"We warned you last year, Addams." Daphne said, her eyes narrow. "We don't want her kind in here."
"I'm a witch like you are!" Hermione said angrily, untangling herself from her friend's unresponsive limbs and standing up next to Draco.
"You are nothing like me, Mudblood."
"Harveste-"
But Daphne seemed to have thrown caution to the wind, backed as she was by their entire house. She strode up to Harry until they were nose to nose. He could feel her Power flare just under her skin. She was strong, and gutsy, and very, very dead once he figured out where to stash the body. But for now, Harry smiled.
"You don't scare me, Addams. You don't scare any of us. You follow our rules, you understand, or there'll be trouble. We can make you, Blaise and Draco think you're in hell. We don't want this Mudblood here. And we don't want you or your stupid Blood Magic. You're nothing now." She hissed, then bent even closer. "He's coming, and when he gets his hands on you, you'll wish you were dead."
"How dare you!"
The slap rang through the silent common room.
Hermione's chest was heaving with ire. Blaise and Draco, also glaring at their housemates, had to hold her arms to keep her from getting at Daphne again. The Slytherin witch was on the floor, one hand on her reddened cheek.
"Don't you dare threaten Harry, any of you! You stay away from us!"
"Little fylgja," Harry said fondly, coming up behind her and wrapping her up in an embrace. His freezing touch, completely unexpected, stilled her, and she looked up questioningly.
She was getting a hug. From Harveste Addams. Blaise and Draco looked at each other,
Then Harry's Power rushed through the room, making everyone shiver. Shadows started to encroach between the candlelight, and their breath appeared as white mist.
Harry was smiling.
"You were saying, Daphne?" He said blithely.
"Bastard. You gay cross-dressing freak and your little hag and your band of faggoty shits," Daphne seethed venomously as she stood up. Anthony and Marcus Flint flanked her, looking like couple of hulking mountains. "You'll be sorry you ever put a hand on me, Granger. I promise you that."
-.-.-.-…-.-.-.-
"I could kill her. I think I could actually kill her with my bare hands."
Hermione continued to mutter to herself, twisting her fingers into knots. Harry walked beside her as they filed towards the school grounds under the sunset. The Beauxbatons and Durmstrang delegations were coming today, and they were expected to give a little show of school pride. Above them, the Slytherin flag flapped in the air, with the Hufflepuff, Gryffindor and Ravenclaw flags beside it. Draco and Blaise were silent, mulling over what had happened in their common room.
They had never known Slytherins to show such open contempt. Draco had half a mind to tell his godfather, but Blaise was thinking about all the awful things that were going to happen to his housemates. When they had looked at each other in that stone-cold room, he knew that Draco had been thinking the same thing. They wanted to be there when it happened. They wanted a chance to extract a little vengeance too. No one had any right to talk to them like that, it was beyond stupid. Even now, the older Slytherins and Daphne were looking at them, their anger blatant as fire. Idiots, the lot of them. They should know better than to think Harveste had let them get away.
Blaise was also thinking about the hug, for some reason. Perhaps it was just his imagination, but when he had seen Harveste so affectionate with Hermione he had felt… just the slightest bit jealous.
"Look at the sky!"
Blaise shook himself free from his thoughts, ignoring the slight burn that he could feel on his cheeks, and looked up.
"It's a dragon!" Some excitable first-year exclaimed.
"It's a flying house!" Said another idiot.
"It's a bird," Harry chuckled into his fan. "It's a plane."
With a thunderous crash, it landed. There were gigantic horses, each the size of a tree, and a huge, hulking coach that seemed overly-gilded because of its size. The door opened, and an enormous woman got out. If all of Beauxbatons was this intimidating, Draco thought, then their Hogwarts champion was going to be fucked.
The Headmistress, if that was what she was, seemed to be talking hurriedly to Dumbledore. She was gesturing frantically, and their Headmaster was getting more and more stoic.
Like froth from an inexpertly opened champagne bottle, a horde of shrieking girls tumbled out of the coach, tripping over their own feet, any chance of a sedate entrance ruined. A few were sobbing.
"Pathetic."
Blaise felt his heart stop. He knew that voice. He looked over at Draco, horrified.
"My Valkyrie," Harveste said, an uncharacteristic tinge of surprise in his even voice. "What are you doing here?"
Another Addams. Another Addams.
Then the lake rumbled and started to boil. A dark, near-rotting boat with torn sails pushed its way out of the water. Blaise tore his eyes from the sight of Harveste twirling around his sister to look at it. Maybe if he ignored it for long enough, it would miraculously become untrue.
Water hadn't stopped pouring from the hull when the Headmaster of Durmstrang hurried down the ramp, followed by a dozen or so other students. It was like they were trying to get away from something, or someone. Then Viktor Krum emerged, the internationally famous Bulgarian National seeker, and he was talking to…a mound of hair?
"Cousin What?"
Oh no. It couldn't be.
Blaise felt like he was watching from afar as both Harveste and Wednesday dashed up to the mound of hair and hugged it. It was moving and squeaking and they were nodding, like they understood every word.
It was another Addams. It couldn't be anything else.
There were three Addams. THREE. In Hogwarts. At the same time.
-.-.-.-…-.-.-.-
The whole school was buzzing over the appearance of Krum, the Durmstrang students, Krum, and almost Veela-like beauty of some of the Beauxbatons girls, Krum, the strange mound of mobile hair, and Viktor Krum.
The buzz was everywhere, except for the Gryffindor table. There, the tension was so thick it could have been cut into blocks and made into houses.
It could have been because the son of a Death Eater, the son of a Black Widow and the creepiest boy ever had sat down like it was an absolutely normal thing to do.
It could have been because The Walking Hairpiece had also taken a seat there, though it had no visible knees, and it was eating, though there was no visible mouth either. The food just kept shrinking on its plate, like it was disappearing into the atmosphere.
It could have been because a twelve-year-old girl, who was so Gothic it deserved the capital letter, had taken the seat next to it. She had a glare like a zombie, blazing and undead, and every time she moved her cutlery, everyone within a hundred meter radius had this pressing urge to duck.
It could have been because Viktor Krum had followed the Hairpiece and was at the Gryffindor table, talking to all five of the strange students and Hermione Granger as well.
And it kept on happening, day after day, for a whole week.
It was unreal. What in the world could they all possibly have in common?
-.-.-.-…-.-.-.-
"The Krum Family has been studying Blood Magic for years. They teach a small course in Durmstrang, but it doesn't really go in-depth. Viktor here has kept me up to speed. The Library at their estate is to-die-for." Cousin What said. Or at least, that's what Harveste told Draco, Blaise and Hermione. All they had heard was Bzz-bzzbzz-bzz-bzzzz-bzz.
"We would love to visit sometime." Harry turned his smile on Viktor. "And we extend our own invitation, isn't that right, Wednesday?"
Wednesday scowled, impaling a piece of roast beef on her fork. "This is the same stuff they have in France. When do we get real food?"
Hermione made a face. She had heard about Veela stew.
Harveste had asked his sister how she had managed to talk Madame Maxime into letting her fly to Hogwarts. The trip, and indeed the Tri-Wizard Tournament, was meant for students seventeen years of age and above. She shouldn't even have been allowed on the coach. Wednesday had simply smiled at them, and when she pulled her braid over her shoulder, Draco had seen a silver gleam. There had also been a slight bloodstain on her shoe. He decided that he never wanted to know, ever.
Both Cousin What and Viktor Krum had added their names to the Goblet of Fire. So had Cedric Diggory of Hufflepuff and Clifford Warrington, the sloth of Slytherin. Fred and George Weasley had also made a spirited try, and now they were just down the table, stroking their long, white beards and looking very pleased with themselves. The Gryffindors had been very gracious about the use of their table, though perhaps it had been more due to the fact that wherever What went, Viktor Krum went also. The Slytherins were seeing red about that. Blaise snorted. Serve them right.
Ronald Weasley and Seamus Finnegan had tried to strike up a conversation, and were currently glowing like a couple of fanboys whose wildest dreams had come true.
Fleur Delacour, one of the Beauxbatons girls, had also tried to talk to the celebrity, but one glimpse of Wednesday's dark eyes rising over the hunched shoulders had her skittering away like a frightened rabbit.
"When the champions' names are called, I would like to ask them to please come to the front of the Hall and into the next chamber -"
"Bzz-bzzzz-bzzbzz-bzzz," said Cousin What. Viktor tilted his head for a moment, then nodded.
"And to you too." He said in his low, husky voice.
"Any second now," Draco said, craning his head.
The wooden goblet on the dais flared red and spat out a charred bit of parchment. Dumbledore caught it.
"The Champion for Durmstrang will be Viktor Krum!"
"BZZ!" huffed Cousin What.
"Language, Cousin What." Harry said with a smile. "Congratulations, Viktor."
Amid cheers, the Durmstrang student stood, and bowed to the audience. Then, before stepping towards the front of the Hall, he bent down.
And he kissed the top of Cousin What's head.
Harry, eyebrows arched as high as Draco had ever seen, looked at Wednesday. She shrugged, just as clueless.
"The Champion for Beauxbatons will be Fleur Delacour!"
"I hope she chokes on a toad." Wednesday automatically said, but her heart wasn't in it. She was still stunned.
"Cousin," Harry tried, clearing his throat. "You never told us that…that you had a boyfriend."
Apparently, hair could blush.
"The Champion for Hogwarts will be Cedric Diggory!"
"How…?" Harry opened and closed his mouth for a minute, then turned to Hermione for supplication.
Good as she was with words, Hermione couldn't think of a thing to say.
"Is What a girl or a boy?" Draco whispered to his friend.
"We don't know. We never even knew that Cousin It, his father, was a he. It's an Addams mystery."
"Bzz-bzzbzzz-bzzzz-bz-bz-bzzz-bzzbzzz."
"Oh, well that's alright then." Wednesday said, sitting back. "As long as he doesn't get any funny ideas. You know what happens to people who get funny ideas."
"Bzzz."
"What happens to people with funny ideas?" Hermione asked.
"They start laughing. Till they die."
Dumbledore's voice, steady but with an underlying thread of tension, cut through their chuckles. "That's not…what on… Harry Potter."
Draco turned horrified grey eyes to Blaise when he saw his breath crystallize in the air.
The Goblet suddenly started to burn with a black flame. A second after everyone had ducked, it exploded.
-.-.-.-…-.-.-.-
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End of Part 2
Gods, I'm running out of inspiration, but blow me if that last scene didn't just jump out at me. Surprised me too, I can tell you. Don;t kill me over my short chapter, I'm still writing, still writing. Just wanted you all to be in awe of the weird fantasy that is CousinWhatxViktorKrum