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Chapter Ten: The Champions
One by one, the entire Hogwarts delegation filed up and dropped their names into the Goblet of Fire on Halloween morning. Harry had not come with them, and Ginny was glad. She didn't think she could stand to see the frown on his face as she did what she knew she had to do. Resolutely, she stepped up to the Goblet and dropped in her name. The emotions inside her were running wild, twisting and turning with such ferocity that when her fingers released the small parchment it was almost a release, a kind of satisfaction that the job was done and it was out of her hands now. The Goblet seemed to understand this; the blue-white flame turned as red as her hair and emitted a round of sparks that exemplified her mood.
It didn't help that she hadn't slept well the night before. So many things were running through her mind and it had kept her up till the wee hours of the morning. No matter what Harry thought, she was worried about Draco Malfoy's presence at Beauxbaton's. Before they had retired for the night Harry had once again pleaded with her to consider dropping out, and she had considered it. But ultimately she knew that it wasn't something she could do, even for him.
She couldn't explain it, but she felt certain that this was her time to do something great, something that didn't revolve around Harry or the war. She needed to prove to herself and everyone else that she was perfectly capable of handling any situation that might come her way. She wasn't a baby or some wilting flower that needed protecting. And then there was the issue of the prize money. She needed that money help her become an Auror. Ever since she had met Tonks it was all she could think about, and that desire had only grown stronger when she learned Harry and Ron wanted to be Aurors, too.
But she and Ron didn't have the financial options that Harry had at his fingertips. The money his parents had left him was enough to pay for his education and give him a comfortable savings for when he finished, but add to that the fortune Sirius had left him and Harry was a very wealthy young man. He and Ginny had never talked about the specifics – she doubted Harry even knew how much he had in Gringotts – but she knew it was enough that he'd never have to worry about money again so long as he was careful how he spent it. Ginny knew she'd love Harry whether he was filthy rich or dead broke; it didn't matter to her one way or another. She was very glad he'd never have the stress of trying to figure out how he was going to pay rent or buy professional robes when the trainee's stipend was barely enough to cover food and books. Then, there was the special equipment they'd need for field training. Junior Aurors didn't make much money in the first few years until they gained some rank and position within the organization. Tonks had told her once that she'd had to borrow money from her parents just to get by and she'd only recently paid them back.
Ginny didn't have that option. Her parents barely had enough to cover the repairs they'd needed on the Burrow after the war since the Death Eaters had practically destroyed her childhood home. They'd scrimped and saved for years just to get them all through school as it was, and they still found the money for this year's tuition and books somehow, along with the repairs. She had a sneaking suspicion that they had borrowed money from Auntie Muriel to do it, and she felt guilty about that even now. Her mother had gone without new shoes and never bought new robes for herself, not even for Bill or Charlie's weddings. Instead, she'd managed to somehow find a decent set in the second hand shop. Her father had owned the same Ministry robes for over a decade and not complained once. They'd always dreamed of travelling, but the only trips they'd ever taken were to Romania once to visit Charlie in the dragon camp and Egypt before her second year to visit Bill. There was no way she could ask them for help.
"Weasley, you surprise me," a familiar arrogant voice said from behind her.
She whirled around to face him, her nostrils flaring. "What's that supposed to mean, Malfoy?" she said, tossing her mane of long, thick hair in annoyance.
He shrugged, totally unaffected by her less than friendly attitude. "I would have thought your boyfriend wouldn't want his woman competing in such a dangerous competition – much less your psychotic, over-protective brothers. But I suppose it's the whole Gryffindor bravery thing, isn't it? It makes all of you self-righteous egomaniacs crave the glory and attention. Admit it… you've always been star stuck by Pompous Potter. I bet shagging the Boy Loser is the highlight of your life."
"My private life is none of your business," she said coolly. "As for this competition… if it's so dangerous then why are you doing it? Then again, I've not actually seen you put your name in yet. Perhaps you chickened out already like the coward we all know you to be. When the going gets rough, poor little Draco runs and hides. Isn't that what you're best at?"
His eyes blazed. "You don't know anything," he growled.
"I know you had a rotten childhood and that you never felt like you measured up to your father's expectations. I know that you were supposed to kill Dumbledore – even had your wand on him – but you couldn't do it, probably one of the few decent things you've done in your pathetic life. Instead of standing on the side you knew was right, you ran. You've been running ever since, and I'll wager you'll run from this as well. You don't have the guts to submit your name, Draco Malfoy."
He stared at her for a long time and Ginny stared back, determined not to look away first. She didn't want to show any weakness that he could exploit later on. But she couldn't help her eyes from widening as he turned on his heel, walked over the age line, drew a piece of parchment from his pocket, turned to show her his name clearly visible on the slip, then defiantly dropped it in the fire. As it had done with every candidate so far, the dancing fire inside the Goblet accepted the bit of parchment by turning red and emitting sparks.
"You would have lost that wager, Weasley," Malfoy said just before he stalked off.
"What was that all about?"
She turned to find Harry looking between her and the retreating form of Draco Malfoy. His tone was angry and his eyes hard as he watched Malfoy leave the room.
"Just Malfoy shooting off his mouth as usual," Ginny said with a measure of weariness. "What are you doing here?"
"I came to find you." His eyes slid to the Goblet.
"You came to see if I actually did it," she surmised.
"Did you?"
"Yes, I did."
She moved off towards the entranceway and back towards the train, not daring to look into his eyes, to see the disappointment on his face.
"Ginny, wait," he called out, jogging to catch up with her.
She didn't stop but did slow her pace somewhat to accommodate him. "I can't take it back, Harry. You know as well as I, it's done."
"That's not what I wanted to talk about," he said, matching her pace easily. "I hate fighting with you. I would have preferred that you change your mind about entering the tournament, but since you didn't there's no use arguing about it. I promised I'd support you and I intend to honour that promise."
"I appreciate that, I really do." But she sensed there was more. "You'd hoped I'd changed my mind."
He hesitated then said, "I know firsthand what a challenge this is going to be, if you are chosen. The dangers are real and far from glorious."
She cocked her head, stealing a glance at him. "You've never taken the safe route a day in your life. Why do you always expect me to?"
"Maybe it's selfish of me to hold you back, but I don't want to see you unnecessarily hurt."
"Why are you so certain I'm even going to be hurt?" she pressed. "I'm stronger than you realise."
"You are strong," he agreed, "and capable, too. I thought we'd already covered this?"
"You say it, but I wonder if you really believe it," she mused thoughtfully. "You don't trust me the way you trust my brother and Hermione."
"Of course I do," he snapped, but she could see echoes of doubt sneaking across his face. "Besides, they're older and have more experience. We've been through a lot together."
"Yes," she said idly, stamping down her anger and trying to see it from his perspective. She stopped and faced him knowing that it was now or never. If they were to have a chance at a future together then he'd have to accept that she needed more. She needed him to trust her the way he trusted Ron and Hermione. "I suppose in your eyes they are more capable of watching your back, but I intend to change that one day."
"I trust you to watch my back," Harry protested.
She regarded him shrewdly. "Do you?" she said, "Do you really, or wouldn't you rather I was someplace else, away from the danger? If you had your choice, would you want me fighting by your side or shut away in a cupboard until the danger passes?"
She saw his mind working, trying to come up with a counter argument, but it was clear he wasn't having much success.
"I just don't want you to take unnecessary risks," he said lamely. "But with you wanting to be an Auror, I suppose that's asking for a bit much, isn't it?"
"Unfortunately, yes," she said, her voice softening. "That's why you'll make an excellent Auror, Harry. You understand that you have to take risks, which you've done plenty of times already in your life. I've learned a lot from watching you all these years. You've never shied away from a challenge, or given up when things got rough. No matter what, you kept fighting. And I'm going to keep fighting, too. I want to be the next Triwizard champion, and I want to be an Auror... almost as much as I want you in my life. Please don't make me choose."
He knitted his brow. "I'd never make you choose, Ginny," he said, sounding genuinely hurt. "But I can't help my feelings. Maybe it's just my male ego rearing its ugly head, or maybe it's that 'saving people thing' I've been accused of in the past, but I can't help wanting to protect you – that's just who I am."
Her heart swelled at his words.
"And just so you know," he continued earnestly. "I have felt like giving up, many times. I would have, too, but every time I got close all I had to do was think of you or Ron or Hermione, and how disappointed you'd all be in me if I stopped fighting. I fought for you, Ginny, all those months we were separated. I kept fighting for all of you, through everything, and in the end I came to understand that sometimes you have to surrender to destiny. That's why I'll never stand in your way."
For the first time she noticed the circles under his eyes.
"Did you have trouble sleeping, too?" she asked gently touching his face.
He shrugged. "Maybe a bit."
"I didn't sleep a wink," she admitted tiredly. "What do you say we go back to my room and take a kip?"
His eyebrows rose in surprise. "Together?"
"Sleeping only. Do you think your libido is strong enough to handle that?" she teased him.
"I think I could certainly try," he grinned.
She touched his arm, suddenly solemn. "Thanks, Harry."
He cocked his head. "Why?"
"For opening up to me," she said. "For listening, and for meeting me half way. I know that isn't easy for you."
"Hey, I'm getting better at this mushy stuff," he protested.
"Now you sound like Ron," she told him, rolling her eyes. "For the record, it's not 'mushy stuff' its romantic stuff."
He looked amused. "I was being romantic?"
"Just a bit."
"Maybe I need some more practice then," he said with a sly smile. "I'm sure I can do better."
"Well, then," she said coyly. "I suppose you'll have to catch me in order to practice!" She took off at a dead run, laughing, with Harry close at her heels.
"That's not fair!" he whinged when she beat him to the train. "I could have caught you if you hadn't cheated."
She positioned herself on the first step so that they were level, looking at each other eye to eye. Leaning into him, she marvelled at the feel of his hard chest next to hers as she put her hands around his neck.
"Didn't you know?" she said brazenly. "You've already caught me. From the moment I laid eyes on you at Platform 9 ¾ when you were eleven and I was ten, I've been yours."
"Hmmm…" he said teasingly. "If that's the case, then what was all that business with Michael Corner and Dean Thomas?"
"A distraction." She batted her eyes at him and smiled smugly. "And Cho Chang? What was she?"
"A mistake," Harry said, making her laugh.
"Let's make a deal, Harry," she proposed. "No more distractions and no more mistakes. Just you and me, forever."
He leaned in and kissed her so thoroughly she thought she might faint. They broke apart slightly, touching foreheads. "Forever isn't long enough Ginny," he whispered against her lips. "I'll need an eternity, at the very least."
"Now that was romantic," she breathed, kissing him back for all she was worth.
(break)
Harry was nervous as he paced outside the Dining Chamber inside Beauxbaton's with the Triwizard Cup in his hand. He had enjoyed his afternoon with Ginny lying snuggled together on her bed. They did nothing more than sleep, but it seemed like a distant memory now. The ceremony was about to begin and he had been instructed to wait here until called.
The heavy Oak doors swung open and Harry heard his cue.
"Will ze past champion and winner of ze last Triwizard Tournament please come forward and relinquish ze Cup?" he heard Madame Maxime say loudly.
He walked in stiffly, trying not to look at the hundreds of eyes glued on him, the cup clutched tightly in his hand. Marching directly up to Madame Maxime, he handed it over to her.
"On behalf of Cedric Diggory and myself, I relinquish this Cup," he said in an even voice as he handed it over.
She seemed slightly surprised by his statement, but accepted the cup from him.
"Merci, Mr. Potter," she said with the slightest incline of her massive head. He was reminded of the first time he had seen her five years ago; she was bedecked in opal jewellery and her robes were midnight black, matching her black eyes and hair. He retreated to his seat amidst a sea of applause where Ginny greeted him with a squeeze of her hand. Once he was settled and the Chamber was quiet, Madame Maxime called for the Goblet of Fire.
"It ez time to see who our champions will be," she announced. With a dramatic wave of her wand she dimmed the lights so that only the glowing orange jack-o-lanterns on the table emitted the faintest rays from the candles within. The shadows and outlines of their sinister faces bounced off the ceiling and walls, giving the Dining Chamber an eerie atmosphere. It was aided by the newly changed décor of the room which heavily featured orange and black, from the carpets to the table cloths and fresh flowers.
As before, the crowd waited with bated breath for the Goblet to divulge its choices. Finally, when the suspense was almost at a deafening crescendo of silence, the blue-white flames flared and turned red. A single piece of parchment burst forth and was caught by Madame Maxime. Harry held his breath.
"Ze Beauxbaton's Champion ez… Jon-Pierre Bonaccord."
The Beauxbaton's students erupted in cheers as a good-looking boy with chestnut brown hair and a winning smile rose to his feet and joined Madame Maxime, receiving a congratulatory kiss on the cheeks from his beaming Headmistress – although Harry wasn't quite certain how she managed to bend that low and still make it look elegant.
Before he had time to relax, the fire erupted again, spitting out a second name.
"Ze Hogwarts Champion ez…"
Harry closed his eyes, wishing that it was someone else – anyone else but Ginny.
"Ginevra Weasley."
He expelled the air he had been holding in and turned, trying his best to be happy for her. Luckily she had been too busy accepting enthusiastic congratulations from her fellow Hogwarts classmates to notice his initial reaction. Before joining Jon-Pierre up front, however, she turned to him apprehensively, a questioning look on her beautiful freckled face.
Knowing he couldn't disappoint her, he smiled and nodded his head towards the waiting teachers. "Go."
She smiled back and moved towards the front where she accepted her congratulations from Madame Maxime, Professor Csintalan, and Professor McGonagall.
By then the Goblet was preparing to reveal the final champion. The crowd hushed expectantly, waiting to see who the last participant would be.
"Ze Durmstrang champion ez…" Madame Maxime called out, checking the parchment. Her face fell in a frown as she looked towards the Durmstrang tables. "…Draco Malfoy."
The entire room was shocked into silence, including the Durmstrang delegation. Harry wanted to run up and check the name himself – he was certain the former Slytherin must have used some sort of foul play to ensure that his name came out of the cup, but he couldn't honestly say he was surprised. He had known it would come to this the moment Malfoy had revealed himself at the start. All of the Hogwarts students including Ginny looked gobsmacked, though, as if not believing that the magically enchanted Goblet could make such a choice. Even McGonagall's mouth was pursed in a thin straight line.
But no one looked more shocked than Draco. His already pale face turned even paler as he stumbled to his feet amid scattered applause. As he made his way to the front of the room Harry had the impression that he thought he had just been called to the gallows; the former Slytherin was in a daze as he accepted the stiff handshakes of the professors. Even Csintalan didn't look pleased, and not one of the Durmstrang students had bothered applauding. In fact, the lot of them looked extremely put out by this turn of events.
Madame Maxime turned to the crowd and plastered a smile on her face. "I give you ze newest Triwizard Champions – Jon-Pierre Bonaccord, Ginevra Weasley, and Draco Malfoy! May ze best champion win."
Harry clapped along with the others while trying to figure how this had happened. But the most puzzling thing of all wasn't how Malfoy had ended up a champion – the real mystery was why he didn't look a bit happy about it.