Chapter Two
Welcome to Hogwarts
:.:.:
With the sun still tucked away below the horizon, there was nothing more than a tint of blue lighting to show my way around the castle. Impending orange glow sat patiently somewhere, as I made my way down to the docks with my luggage. Viktor, Grigor, and I met up with one another beforehand so we continued to walk down together. Soon enough, the tall mast of the great skeletal-looking ship of Durmstrang came into view. The dots below indicated the arrival of the other students all bringing their luggage aboard. The three of us moved cautiously upon reaching the slippery, cobblestone steps leading down the slope of the mountain, until our combat boot-clad feet touched down on the wooden dock.
"Krum, Harris, and Poliakoff," said Karkaroff to Sasha who marked something down on a clipboard. "Wonderful! That is everyone!"
And so we stored our luggage upon climbing aboard, Karkaroff immediately heading for his cabin as Sasha took the wheel.
"RAISE ANCHOR!" he comanded. A collection of blokes moved to do so. It wasn't long before we'd began gliding out into the open waters.
I strode over to the railing and watched the castle until it was nothing more than a spec in the distance. And some time later, when the sun's rays began to spread along the horizon, Sasha called out, "PREPARE TO DIVE!"
We all retrieved our wands and casted all charms and other spells necessary to keep the ship and ourselves in tact. Then, once we were ready, the ship cut through the ocean and we remained completely unharmed — and dry — under it's glassy, blue surface.
:.:.:
Nearly three days later, on October 30th, was when I finally heard Sasha call out the words: "PREPARE TO DOCK!" Karkaroff had emerged from his cabin just as the ship began to rise from out of the water. None of us were aware of the time of day or had any idea of our surroundings, but once we'd finished removing the remaining Charms, we were free to observe. I leaned against the railing once again, my lungs thankful to finally be able to breathe in an air fresher than sea water.
"DROP ANCHOR!" came Sasha's orders once more; those in charge of it did as comanded.
I was rather surprised to find dusk had fallen, cold and clear, with a pale moon shining over the now black waters and giving the skeletal ship a somewhat eerie aspect. But the chills were nothing when compared to those at school, back in Norway.
"LOWER THE PLANK!" Karkaroff called out. Sasha did so, Karkaroff then the first one to step from it and touch down on official Hogwarts grounds. "Dumbledore!" He then said heartily to the white-bearded wizard with the twinkling, blue eyes behind half-moon spectacles — the great Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts. "How are you, my dear fellow, how are you?"
"Blooming, thank you, Professor Karkaroff," was Dumbledore's reply.
I made by way down the plank right behind Viktor. "Prepare yourself for the hundreds of fan girls, Viky," I warned him lightheartedly.
"Good luck fending off your own hundreds of fan boys," he countered.
"Yeah, right," was my sarcastic reply. "I'll hire Grigor as my body-guard."
That was a common misconception people always tended to have about me. They thought simply because I was the only girl attending Durmstrang that all of the boys would just flock to me. That was absolutely not the case. Not that I haven't had my fair share of boyfriends and admirers and what-have-you, but the fact remained that the blokes of Durmstrang would prefer to give me a high-five rather than hold my hand. Which was probably why upon reaching the mass of Hogwarts students, I grew slightly self-conscious as most people began gawking at me. Well, it was either myself or Viktor and I was hoping it was the latter.
"Viktor, come along, into the warmth," Karkaroff's voice cut through the undertones of the students. His hand crashed down upon Viktor's shoulder before turning to face Dumbledore. "You don't mind, Dumbledore? Viktor has a slight head cold…"
That just about did it. Whomever hadn't noticed Viktor before, certainly caught sight of him, then. Karkaroff chose that moment to lead us all forward and file up the steps of Hogwarts, Viktor and his crazed mob of fans rushing along. I hung back a bit with Grigor and was unfortunate enough to catch a snippet of conversation between some of Viktor's fan girls.
"Oh I don't believe it, I haven't got a single quill on me —"
"D'you think he'd sign my hat in lipstick?"
"Really."My voice mixed with the lofty tone of another female, evidently just as annoyed with those cackling hens as I was beginning to be. The girl must have heard me because she'd turned around and caught my eye, offering a small, sort of buck-toothed grin. She had bushy brown hair and a pair of irises hued to match.
"Hey, you!" hissed a voice. There was no need to turn though, for the red-headed boy had quickly slithered his way in between the girl and I. "You know Krum?"
"Sorry, never heard of him," I lied; Grigor chuckled beside me.
"What d'you mean?" asked the boy, truly puzzled. "I just saw you speak with him! You go to the same school! What about you? You know Viktor Krum, don't you?"
He nodded to Grigor who swiftly played along. "Viktor who?"
"Ugh! C'mon, Harry! Maybe we can catch him!" And so the boy tugged on the arm of his dark-haired friend whom I hadn't even really seen. But anyway, they'd managed to wriggle through the crowd and pass through the threshold of what reminded me of the Dining Hall back at Durmstrang. Though at Hogwarts, Draco had told me it was referred to as the Great Hall.
"Don't mind, Ronald, he's completely obsessed," said the girl to Grigor and I. "I'm Hermione, by the way. Hermione Granger."
"Grigor Poliakoff," he introduced. "Pleasure to meet you."
Her eyes then fell expectantly on me. "Demetria Harris." Grigor and I stopped upon entering the Hall, finding our fellow schoolmates leaned against a wall, contemplating which table to sit at. For much like in our own Hall, there were four tables lined vertically beside one another, the only difference at Hogwarts being that they were each clearly for different Houses, also explained to me by Draco.
"You could sit with us if you'd like?" Hermione invited, standing between myself and the Gryffindor table.
But I took one look over at it and my gaze was immediately, almost as though by a magnet, pulled into the orbit of a certain red-headed boy's gaze. Not Ronald, which Hermione had called the boy wanting Viktor's autograph, but another with baby blue eyes which widened upon locking with my own set of hazel. It was the boy from the forest on the night of the Quidditch World Cup. No wait, it was him and his twin…and two seats down, it was even the red-headed girl!
"Bloody —" I caught myself and quickly returned my attention to a patiently waiting Hermione. "N-no thanks," I told her, my eyes then darting over to find Viktor settling down at the Slytherin table along with the rest of the Durmstrang population. "We'd better stick with the group." I took Grigor by the hand and rushed over, the feeling of those blue eyes burning into my back making me rather comfortable.
"Demetria," began Grigor with concern. "vhy is it you are so jumpy?"
"I just…didn't want to lose Viktor," I lamely fibbed, dropping into an empty spot on the bench beside Viktor which also happened to be across from another familiar face.
"Draco," I greeted. Although we'd known one another for years, we weren't exactly best friends or anything. We'd attended all of the Death Eater and pure-blood community occasions there were, and yet still we were nothing more than mere acquantinces.
"Demetria," came his courteous reply.
"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, ghosts and — most particularly — guests," Dumbledore's voice echoed throughout the silenced Hall. He stood before a staff table very much similar to the Head Table at Durmstrang. "I have great pleasure in welcoming you all to Hogwarts. I hope and trust that your stay here will be both comfortable and enjoyable."
There came a derisive giggle from one of the Beauxbatons girls, which prompted Hermione to mutter something. And though I couldn't hear exactly what, I'd detected enough to pick up on her cutting tone.
"The tournament will be officially opened at the end of the feast," Dumbledore continued. "I now invite you all to eat, drink, and make yourselves at home!"
No sooner did Dumbledore take a seat than did the gold plates positioned on the tables filled with food. That certainly wasn't something we had at Durmstrang. Most of the selections were foods I'd seen before, but there were also more foreign varieties as options. And knowing Grigor, he'd feel the need to try them all. So upon turning to my left, I was hardly surprised to find him already devouring some sort of dish I'd never seen before…probably French. And speaking of foreign foods, dessert only brought more. So once all plates had been wiped clean, Grigor practically wore all he'd eaten and I'd looked up to find the red-headed twin eyeing me from across the table between us. Luckily, Draco obstructed my view of him.
"Who're you staring at?" he asked, capturing the attention of Grigor and Viktor. I glanced between the three of them and racked my brain for something to say. But thankfully, Dumbledore stepped in and saved me from having to do so.
"The moment has come, the Triwizard Tournament is about to start," he announced to the Great Hall upon standing once again. "I would like to say a few words of explanation before we bring in the casket —"
"Who died?" Grigor asked completely stone-faced. I only nudged him in the ribs.
"— just to clarify the procedure that will be following this year. But first, allow me to introduce, for those who do not know them, Mr. Bartemius Crouch, Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation and Mr. Ludo Bagman, Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports."
The applause grew tremendously louder for Bagman than the pattering of polite claps for Crouch. Possibly because Bagman had been a Beater for the Wimbourne Wasps, but also because he simply looked like a friendlier gent.
"Mr. Bagman and Mr. Crouch have worked tirelessly over the last few months on the arrangements for the Triwizard Tournament," persisted Dumbledore. "and they will be joining myself, Professor Karkaroff, and Madame Maxime on the panel that will judge the champions' efforts," Upon the mentioning of champions, everyone seemed to perk up a bit. Dumbledore must have noticed this, for he smiled and said, "The casket then, if you please, Mr. Filch."
A man whom I hadn't even noticed standing in the Hall's corner — whom I assumed to be Mr. Filch — approached Dumbledore from his lurking in the shadows and brought before him a great wooden chest encrusted with jewels. Excited murmurs began filtering throughout the Hall as Filch gingerly placed the chest on the table before Dumbledore who continued speaking.
"The instructions for the tasks the champions will face this year have already been examined by Mr. Crouch and Mr. Bagman, and they have made the necessary arrangements for each challenge. There will be three tasks, spaced throughout the school year, and they will test the champions in many different ways, such as their magical prowess — their daring — their powers of deduction — and, of course, their ability to cope with danger."
At this last word, the Hall was filled with a silence so absolute that nobody seemed to be breathing. I simply rolled my eyes. If these people feared three magical tasks in a tournament, they wouldn't last a minute in my combat boots upon facing Lord Voldemort and his swarm of Death Eaters.
"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. Dumbledore 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 temptation," Dumbledore continued. "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 a 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!" Despite the numerous conversations which errupted after Dumbledore's final words, my ears had easily detected the red-headed boy's twin shout that out. My eyes lingered upon him for a moment, following him and his twin along with Hermione, Ronald, and his dark-haired friend as they made way for the Great Hall's exit along with everyone else.
"Back to the ship then," came Karkaroff's voice as he bustled up to where the rest of us stood milling around the Slytherin table. "Viktor, how are you feeling? Did you eat enough? Should I send for some mulled wine from the kitchens?"
But Viktor only shook his head, Grigor then jumping in. "Professor, I vould like some vine."
I threw my hand down on his shoulder to restrain him from practically jumping Karkaroff.
"I wasn't offering it to you, Poliakoff," he snapped. "I notice you have dribbled food all down the front of your robes again, disgusting boy —" He then turn and proceeded to lead us toward the front of the Hall, my hand remaining on Grigor's shoulder regardless of how much taller than me he was.
But once we'd reached the doors, we stopped there, Karkaroff seemingly involved in some sort of brief exchange with the dark-haired friend. And though I hadn't been paying attention, for I was far more concerned with keeping my gaze away from the red-headed boy, Grigor nudged me and pointed openly at the boy's forehead. That was when I saw it — the lightning scar.
"Yeah, that's Harry Potter," growled a voice from behind us. We all pivoted to find recently retired Auror, Alastor — Mad-Eye — Moody glaring unblinkingly with his electric blue magical eye at Karkaroff. He leaned heavily on his staff and all at once, the color from Karkaroff's face drained. But still he dared to cause a scene.
"You!" he said to Moody.
"Me," was his grim response. "And unless you've got something to say to Potter, Karkaroff, you might want to move. You're blocking the doorway."
I couldn't have been more thankful when Karkaroff finally decided to continue on through the Hall's threshold. Unfortunately, I evidently wasn't out of the clear yet, for there came a gentle tug on the hand which wasn't still rested on Grigor's shoulder which pulled me back into the crowd and further from my fellow Durmstrang students. And very much to my horror, it was none other than Mr. Baby Blue Eyes himself holding me by the wrist.
"Who are you?" he asked, his orbs searching my own as though he'd find the answer there.
But because he'd caught me so off-guard, I simply rushed anything foreign out of my mouth, which turned out to be, "Vi sa izmama!" (You are cheating) simply because I'd heard Grigor say it countless times when he and I were playing Exploding Snap on the ship.
I tore my hand away from the bloke's grasp and pivoted, cutting through the crowd as best I could until I'd finally made it outside. There, I was able to catch up to my classmates who were all making a bee-line for the docks, and I swiftly began walking beside Grigor as though I'd never left.
"Demetria!" he exclaimed. "Vhere haff you been?"
"Off vith your secret Hogvarts gadzhe?" (boyfriend) teased Aleksander Nikolov.
The boys all broke out in a chorus of laughter, but I remained silent. With luck such as mine, I'd be running into Mr. Baby Blue Eyes more often than I'd like…
:.:.:
The next morning, we were all woken up early by Sasha (in place of Karkaroff) and told to dress and ready ourselves to enter Hogwarts. the blokes and I had dressed in our lightest uniforms — them with their long-sleeved brown shirts tucked underneath a waist-high black belt with matching brown pants, and I with the same thing but omitting the belt and the brown shirt replaced with a black one. We still wore the same black combat boots however, our pants always tucked inside them. And though the boys would always give me shite about girls taking longer to get ready, they'd clearly never met a girl such as myself, for I was the first one off the ship.
"Morning, Demetria," came Karkaroff from behind. I turned and saw him make his way down the plank and stand before me, Sasha at his side.
"Morning, Professor," I politely replied.
"Tell me, Demetria," he began, standing completely upright with his head slightly inclined upward. "do you smell that?"
At first, I was completely thrown off by his question, almost afraid to take a sniff. But once I had, I smelled nothing more than the stench of the lake water. "The lake, sir?"
Karkaroff gave a full laugh. "No, no," he said. "I am referring to the smell of the Goblet shooting out Viktor's name as our Champion."
"I smell it, Professor," insisted Sasha, but Karkaroff paid him no mind, his eyes fixated on the castle.
"I don't believe that has a scent, sir," I told him, smiling despite myself. Karkaroff was a bit out there, but he was always good for a laugh.
The clunking of combat boots against the wooden plank sounded from behind me once again, this time with the rest of the blokes striding down it. They all continued to march on up the slope with Karkaroff and Sasha leading, and myself falling in line beside Viktor.
"Demetria, do you not take pride in the vay you look?" he whimsically asked.
"Is this s'posed to be your attempt at an insult, Vik?" I retorted.
Viktor shrugged. "I just thought I should be the one to tell you of the bird's nest resting on your head."
I swatted him playfully in his gut, the two of us laughing as we made our way up the steps into Hogwarts, walking on toward the entrance hall. And though I knew Viktor was only joking, I still ran a hand through my magically straightened hair (it was naturally wavy) only to have him emit a snort of laughter. That only resulted in a punch to his arm followed by more laughter on his part and a lighthearted smirk on mine.
Karkaroff had those of us who were underage simply sit and watch as the possible Champions submitted their names into the Goblet of Fire. A thin golden line had been traced on the floor to encircle it which must have been the Age Line, and whenever a name was entered, the Goblet's blue-white flames would briefly turn red and spit out sparks. So once all of those eligible from Durmstrang had entered, we'd all made a quick stop in the Great Hall to get some breakfast. But since Finnick Archer, or Finn, wanted to see the other schools enter their names and I wasn't all that hungry, we simply snatched a few pieces of bacon and a blueberry muffin each before returning to the entrance hall.
"So, d'you reckon Durmstrang's got much competition?" Finn asked me, his Scottish accent almost taking me by surprise. He was in my year, but I'd never really had a full-fledged conversation with him. I didn't really have any friends in my own year, actually. Though I'd spoken with him enough to know that he was born and raised in Scotland but with a Bulgarian background, hence his schooling at Durmstrang.
"I actually wouldn't know," I told him honestly upon our second entry into the hall. "I'd say we're the first to enter."
And even after we'd waited, regardless of the fact that it hadn't even been that long, the only people who entered the hall were doing exactly as Finn and I were — standing around to watch. That was until a dark-skinned boy with dreadlocks came running in beside Mr. Baby Blue Eyes and his twin. Luckily though, he hadn't even noticed me for the three of them had gone straight over to Hermione, Ronald, and Harry Potter. I actually hadn't even seen that trio enter, but there they all stood, whispering to one another until their voices grew loud enough for my ears to detect that they'd created some sort of Aging Potion. But I kept myself somewhat hidden behind Finn who simply continued to nimble on his muffin. I suddenly wasn't feeling all that enthused about finishing my own, for when the bloke did take notice of me, it caused a churning in my stomach.
"Ready?" his twin asked, pulling his gaze away from mine. "C'mon, then — I'll go first —"
"These two can't be serious," Finn said to me under his breath.
"I know," I agreed, eagerly waiting for the twin to be thrown out of the circle after he'd walked right up to the edge of it. "I mean, who d'they think they're fooling?" That second part came much softer, however, for the red-headed bloke had turned in my general direction upon hearing Finn's comment. And after all, it would be much easier to avoid them if they thought I couldn't even speak their language.
"You ever going to tell me who you are?" His eyes weren't on me anymore, but I knew his words were directed toward me. He didn't look at me again until he'd had his fill of the silence, and that was when I shook my head. "So you do understand me?"
Oh, now I'd done it. Then again, not necessarily. But judging by the victorious grin etched across his face, I must have dug myself into some sort of hole. So I decided to try and play the foreign card again.
"Ne si gubete vremeto s men," I told him. (Do not waste your time with me)
His grin never faltered as he turned toward Finn. "Oi!" he claimed his attention. "You don't reckon this'll work?"
"Not a chance," Finn scoffed good naturedly. "'Specially when you're trying to get past magic done by Albus Dumbledore."
"You seem a fan," the twin assisted. Those two were definitely up to something.
"Yeah, I guess you could say that," admitted Finn with a shrug of his shoulders. "I haven't got nearly as much interest in him as this school though. I've read Hogwarts: A History about a dozen times."
The devious pair looked as though they'd heard exactly what they wanted. "Then would you care to place a wager on this?"
After a moment of consideration, Finn told them, "I'm listening…"
"If our potion works, you've got to introduce us to your little friend —" The twin gave a wink.
"— and act as our translator," added the other.
"But if it doesn't work," He passed it back to his brother. "We'll give you a tour of the entire castle."
Finn, who had been looking at me upon my being mentioned in the bet, certainly wasn't any longer. He beamed ear to ear and fervently told them: "You're on."
And so, smirks remaining intact, Mr. Baby Blue Eyes's twin, after rocking on his toes for a good five minutes, inhaled and stepped over the line. For a split second, I actually thought it'd worked, and I found myself unaware of which outcome to hope for. Apparently the bloke was led to believe it worked, for he'd released a triumphant yell before leaping after his brother. But suddenly, there came a loud sizzling sound and both twins were launched out of the golden circle, landing with a thud on the cold stone floor about ten feet away. A popping noise then issued and they both sprouted identical long white beards. Laughter sounded throughout the entrance hall, the twins and even myself included.
"I did warn you," came Dumbledore's amused voice. "I suggest you both go up to Madam Pomfrey. She is already tending to Miss Fawcett, of Ravenclaw, and Mr. Summers of Hufflepuff, both of whom decided to age themselves up a little too. Though I must say, neither of their beards is anything like as fine as yours."
"I reckon you two owe me a tour." Finn smirked, and I found it truly unsettling that the twins doing the same, visible despite the long beards.
"Right you are, my wisely-gambling Scottish friend —"
"— On just one ickle condition."
Finn's eyebrows raised skeptically. "What is it?"
A bit of a dramatic pause and then: "Little Miss Durmstrang's got to come along."
"I —" It was a good thing Finn decided to cut me off when he did, or else the next words out of my mouth surely would have been English. But I suspected the twins knew it would be, considering the mild alarm which issued across their faces upon hearing that single word…or well, letter.
"Hold on," said Finn. "You two didn't win —"
"You don't have to introduce us —" assured one.
"— and you don't have to translate," the other said.
But just as Finn appeared to be musing it over, the voice of Dumbledore came once again. "Mr. Weasley, Mr. Weasley, the hospital wing…?"
"On our way, Professor," assured one of them, the other beckoning Finn and I to go with them. Honestly, at that point, I'd simply given up figuring out who was who. After all, it seemed as though they were both after my identity.
"What d'you say, Demetria?" Finn turned to ask me just above a whisper.
And though I wanted so very badly to turn him down, the hopeful smile he wore along with the gleam in his eyes simply extracted the fight right out of me. "All right," I told him reluctantly, grabbing his hand just as he was about to pivot. "On one condition."
"Another condition?" Finn whined, though jokingly.
"Don't mention my name," I warned him.
Finn only nodded, his face as grave as I had been, before making his way toward the twins. I, unfortunately, trailed close behind. Once we'd made it over, the twins and their friend with the dreadlocks immediately began leading the way. At first, they whispered among one another, but then turned and began walking backwards, except for their friend who simply hung back to walk by Finn's side.
"Good morning, lady and gent, and welcome to the Tour of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry," the twin on the left enthusiastically told us before pointing to his brother. "He's George Weasley —"
"— he's Fred Weasley —" he pointed to his twin.
"— and he's Lee Jordan," both of them introduced the boy with the dreadlocks at the same time.
"We ask that you keep your hands and feet inside the vehicle at all times —" said George before Fred cut in.
"— unless you're looking to get your arms gnawed off by a couple of hungry, sleep-walking, Slytherin gorillas —" he quickly added in an undertone.
"— as we make our way to our first stop."
"The hospital wing," came another one of their simultaneous declarations.
Lee Jordan and Finn both appeared truly entertained by the twins' performance. I had to admit, it was amusing, but I didn't even allow so much as a shadow of a smile to break through. But with the way George kept his eyes on me, I figured it was his goal to get me to do so. He must have been the one who'd grabbed my hand in both the woods and the hall last night.
"So, who do we have with us today, Lee?" Fred asked before he and George turned in order to lead us up a flight of stairs.
"Fred, I'm here with two students all the way from Durmstrang Institute," Lee played along, feigning the holding of a microphone. "Hello, sir, what's your name?"
"The name's Finn Archer," he told Lee who'd put the 'microphone' closer to his mouth. Finn gave a laugh before adding: "Oh, and this is my friend D — Er, my friend."
Fred and George had whipped back around in an instant, each throwing names out there beginning with D in an attempt to guess my name.
"Diana?"
"Debra?"
"Delilah?"
"Danielle?"
"Dakota?"
"Dallas?"
"Denver?"
Once the guessing of my name had turned into the guessing of American cities and states, that was when I began glaring at the pair of them. That was until George leaned in a bit, stroking his beard, and solemnly whispered, "Dolores?" I couldn't hide the grin anymore after that, my smile breaking through alongside a breath of laughter. But I quickly caught myself from revealing any more and my mouth snapped back into a hard line.
George offered a genuine smile. "You should smile more often, Dolores."
"Around Durmstrang, we call her Lille Prinsesse," teased Finn. I reacted as I usually would and swatted him hard in the gut. "Lovingly of course," he added upon clutching his stomach, face twisted in discomfort.
"Y'know, George," Fred began, continuing to lead up another flight of stairs with a mischevious grin already in place. "seeing as how we don't know this mysterious maiden's name, perhaps we should call her that as well."
"You've got a point there, Fred," said George, mirroring the smirk, before his eyes locked with mine. "Unless, of course, Princess decides to tell us."
I'd actually been this close to cracking, nearly snapping at those two trouble-making twins in the king's English, but I didn't. I was able to restrain myself, despite how deeply the nickname dug under my skin. I truly despised it. Mostly because it had been Nikolai Pavel who'd given me said nickname in the first place.
Honestly, it felt almost out of my element just turning the other cheek. But it also provided a sense of victory upon watching the twins' faces fall ever-so-slightly in my doing so. It wasn't until we reached what I assumed to be the hospital wing that their words were also directed towards me again.
"We'll just be a moment," Fred assured the rest of us. "Lee, Finn — keep your boxers out of a bunch —"
"— and Princess, don't worry your pretty crowned head." A wink and George had followed his brother through the large wooden doors.
I couldn't take it. That was when I simply just had to say something, regardless of Lee Jordan's presence. "I'm leaving, Finn," I told him before swiftly making my way around him, only to have him pull me back in by the hand toward a shocked Lee.
"C'mon, Demetria," Finn pleaded. "You're a part of the deal! Besides, don't you want a tour of the school your parents went to?"
Lee was muttering things such as 'Demetria' and 'English', but Finn and I simply ignored him for the time being. "Of course I do!" I confessed. "I would just prefer one given by someone other than those two baboons."
"They're not bad! Not bad at all!" Finn insisted. "They remind me quite a bit of you actually."
"I don't see the resemblance," My hand flew to the hem of my shirt to fiddle with the fray, Finn's statement actually being true. The twins and I did share the same sense of humor, and Finn was right about another thing — they truly weren't bad. Not bad at all. But would they be treating me the same if they knew who I was? Demetria Harris, daughter and granddaughter to Death Eaters. Plus the fact that they'd encountered me in the forest at the Quidditch World Cup, so they must already have had some suspicions about me. I wasn't about to just confirm them. "Look, just trust me, they're better off not knowing me."
"So, Demetria, you're British?" said Lee cheekily.
"Yes, I am," I sweetly replied before my tone went sour. "But you will not be telling Fred and George about this."
"Are you mad?!" he asked me with eyes as wide as Quaffles. "Fred and George are my best friends! Of course I'm going to tell them!"
Feeling as though there were no other option, I lifted my right leg to retrieve my wand which remained dormant inside my combat boot. I then pointed it threateningly in front of Lee's face. His dark eyes nearly crossed in an attempt to stare at it.
"Don't make me do it, Lee," I warned him.
Lee released a shaky laugh. "You wouldn't hurt me…" Though he seemed a bit unsure.
"Say a word to either of them and I'llcast a Stinging Hex so strong, your face will swell until you're unrecognizable," I assured him.
Lee's eyes shifted from my wand to my own orbs. He then gave a brief glance toward Finn who only nodded to affirm my seriousness. "Why is this such a huge deal exactly?" Lee skeptically inquired.
"Just promise you won't tell Fred and George," I persisted, poking my wand to his chest.
"Demetria —"
"You too, Finn!" My wand remained on Lee but my eyes had shifted over to the Scot himself. "Silent as the stars, both of you." I repeated the words Grandad had always told me when I was younger.
"But wh — ?"
"Promise!"
"We're back!" Fred practically sang as he and George appeared bursting through the doors. Luckily, they'd been so focused on their entrance, they hardly noticed me quickly stowing my wand away. "Hope you didn't miss us too much, Princess."
But my reply consisted of nothing more than a roll of my eyes and a huff of breath. And though I'd diverted my gaze from the pair of them, I carefully watched Lee when George jokingly asked him: "She wasn't talking about us, was she?"
Lee grinned and told him, "Silent as the stars."
:.:.:
Nearly an entire day spent without a single English word uttered. It had to have been a new record for me. And Hogwarts was so bloody big that by the time we'd completed our tour, I could see both the Beauxbatons students and my own classmates making their way back to the castle. And though for a moment I'd thought perhaps Karkaroff had been having kittens over mine and Finn's absence, but I was quick to realize that he was far too preoccupied prepping Viktor for the Tournament to worry about the pair of us. Speaking of, it seemed Viktor and Karkaroff felt they were the only ones who should even be attending the Feast that night what with the way they strode so far ahead of the others. But another thing I realized was that it wasn't Viktor's fault, Karkaroff just got carried away. And Merlin, did he ever.
"I'm surprised he hasn't printed Viktor's face on the back of his cloak yet," I leaned in to tell Finn.
"Did you say something, Princess?" cooed George, he and Fred smirking from a ways behind Finn and myself. I turned silently and waited until Karkaroff and Viktor were near enough that Finn and I could fall in behind them.
"Harris! Archer!" Karkaroff brought his mouth from Viktor's ear to say. He'd probably been encouraging Vicky dearest the entire walk from the ship. "Where have you two been?"
I risked a glance back at Fred, George, and Lee who were engaged in their own hushed conversation. Discussing which surname was mine, no doubt. Bloody hell, when would those blokes give up? And actually…Lee better not have been telling them which was mine.
So while Finn gave our reason, I sent a significant glance at Lee who only winked in reply. I just hoped that was a good sign.
"So long, Princess!" all three of them chorused dramatically. I squeezed my eyes shut with a pained expression upon my face as though it would brace me for the snickers which came from some of the blokes, especially Nikolai.
Karkaroff then led the lot of us into the Great Hall which was nearly filled. The Goblet of Fire had been moved from the entrance hall to in front of Dumbledore's empty chair at the staff table. The blokes and I went to re-claim our seats at the Slytherin table from the previous night, Draco acknowledging my presence with nothing more than a nod that time, which I returned. It wasn't until more than half-way through this Halloween Feast that I decided to strike up a conversation with him.
"So, Draco," I began casually as though we spoke all the time. I had his attention, though he seemed rather taken aback. "who's got the best shot at being your Champion?"
Draco briefly scanned the Hall before telling me, "Cedric Diggory. He's a Hufflepuff, sixth year. Naturally, I should be cheering for Warrington considering he's a House mate, but…Well, Slytherin'd be better represented by a chimp."
I was surprised that I'd actually released a bit of a chuckle at that. In fact, Draco seemed to display the shock for me. But just as quickly, he was smiling, as was I.
Finally, after what was deemed too long, when all anxiety and impatience was too much to bear, Dumbledore rose to his feet and a wave of silence crashed over the Hall. Karkaroff and Madame Maxime on either side of him were appearing far more tense than anyone else. Ludo Bagman, on the other hand, was beaming and winking at students while Mr. Crouch looked rather bored. But I had to admit, even I couldn't contain my own impatience.
"Well, the goblet is almost ready to make its decision," Dumbledore announced. "I estimate that it requires one more minute. Now, when the champions' names are called, I would ask them please to come up to the front of the Hall, walk along the staff table, and go through into the next chamber" — he gestured toward the door behind the staff table — "where they will be receiving their first instructions."
Taking out his wand and giving a great sweeping wave with it, Dumbledore had extinguished all candles besides those within a carved pumpkin, plunging the Hall into a state of semidarkness. The Goblet of Fire now shone more brilliantly than anything else in the Hall, the bright, blueish-white flames almost painful to gaze upon.
"Are you needing for me to hold your hand, Demikins?" teased Grigor from beside me.
I didn't even look back at him as I elbowed his ribs playfully. "Careful not to wet yourself, Grigikins."
Suddenly, I could feel Grigor's body harden like stone beside me as the flames in the goblet glowed red, sparks emitting. The next thing I knew, a tongue of flame shot into the air, a charred piece of parchment fluttering out of it. The entire room gasped as it gently descended, Dumbledore reaching out and catching it in one swift motion. The flames had returned to the blueish-white and he held out the parchment so to read by the light of them.
"I thought it best to relieve my students of their incredulous worry first. And so, the champion for Hogwarts," he began in a strong, clear voice. "is Cedric Diggory!"
Draco and I looked to one another, him with a knowing smirk and I with an impressed version. And with a storm of applause and a sea of Hufflepuffs rising to their feet, the brown-haired boy I'd assumed to be Cedric made his way past them and headed for the chamber. It had actually taken some time for the cheering to die down but once it did, another silence fell upon the Hall. After a moment, the goblet turned red once again, a second piece of parchment spewing from it, propelled by the flames.
"The champion for Beauxbatons," said Dumbledore. "is Fleur Delacour!"
Over at the Ravenclaw table, amidst the out-break of applause, there was a rather Veela-resembling girl who'd shot to her feet and tossed back her silvery blonde hair. And while she'd made her way toward the staff table and into the chamber, she'd left the rest of the Beauxbatons party in shambles. I kid you not, two of the girls who had not been selected actually dissolved into tears.
Fleur's applause had ceased right on cue, as soon as she'd disappeared into the chamber. It was time for the Durmstrang champion. And though it was basically a known fact that Viktor would be named champion, there were still those pesky butterflies swarming around in my stomach. The Goblet of Fire then turned red once more, sparks showering out of it and the tongue of flame shooting the last parchment into the air.
"And the champion of Durmstrang," said Dumbledore. "is Demetria Harris!"