Chapter Two—Flora's POV

I was shocked when Diggory volunteered. He was the only volunteer throughout the whole list of names. Usually, there's at least two or three, since people want the title of Champion and the eternal glory that came with the games. But he was the only one this time, probably because the last time there was a games, all twenty-three champions were killed on the first day.

And I was completely shocked when seven Hogwarts students' names were read, and the Goblet of Fire emitted one more name: My own.

I had been holding onto my sister with dear life, but even Hestia couldn't spare me when my name was read. I walked to the table, ready to throw up. I glanced over at the Hufflepuff table on my way—stupid choice; I could see tears running down Lewis's face, no doubt from the fear she felt at Diggory being a champion in her place.

I took my spot next to Angelina Johnson, a girl from Gryffindor. She had just turned seventeen; she towered over me like a giant. I held my tongue, afraid of looking like an idiot.

Like Maddie Lewis, I was ready to cry. Colin, another Hogwarts champion, and I were only thirteen, and we were expected to go in and kill each other off! We were up against people that surely knew much more than we did—like Cedric, or Angelina, or Viktor, Fleur, Fred Weasley, or a girl from Durmstrang, Astrid Borja.

Most of the boy champions were burly, all of the girls were sleek...and here I was, terrified for my very life. I was not the part of a champion. There was no way I could win this thing. Tears formed in my eyes, but I was careful not to break down.

We were finally lead, in a midst of applauding and cheering, into another room by Alastor Moody, the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. It was crowded with all twenty-four of us. When we were there, the British Minister for Magic, Cornelius Fudge, read off our names and ages. Rumor had it they read off our age so that the other champions could either figure out who was the easiest to kill off first or so that the younger champions could pretty much prepare their death certificate.

"For Durmstrang—Viktor Krum, eighteen. Dimitri Luvei, sixteen. Hans Sanner, fifteen. Ivar Hjelle, thirteen. Danica Malik, fifteen. Josefina Ulvaeus, fourteen. Astrid Borja, seventeen. Katrin Elden, fifteen. Beauxbatons—Fleur Delacour, seventeen. A'Marie Page, twelve."

My mouth dropped open. Twelve? Well, I felt a bit more secure. At least Colin and I weren't the youngest after all.

"Genevieve Segal, fifteen. Paulete Colbert, sixteen. Oliver Petit, fourteen. Caine Adenot, fifteen. Claude Pascal, seventeen. Edmond Yvon, sixteen. And finally—Hogwarts," he said, looking at us with a twinkle in his eye. "Cedric Diggory, the volunteer, seventeen." It was customary for a volunteer to be specially announced, simply because they weren't actually chosen for the games. Cedric squared his jaw. If I was correct, he was replaying the moment when Maddie Lewis's name came out of the Goblet of Fire. "Harry Potter, fourteen." And the Boy Who Lived. The odds were against me. "Fred Weasley, sixteen. Colin Creevey, thirteen. Lavender Brown, fourteen. Cho Chang, fifteen. Angelina Johnson, seventeen. And last—but certainly not least—Flora Carrow, thirteen."

My legs felt like gelatin. Colin picked up his camera and took a picture of us, much to our consternation. He was smiling a mile a minute, but I could see the fear in his eyes. He was Muggle born. Most of us were at least halfblood, if not all besides him. And there were some younger people in the games.

With a wave of his wand, Moody conjured a table for us and chairs, and commanded that we sit in boy-girl order between (hopefully) people of our school, as another Wizard Games custom. I hated these customs. I was wedged between Fred and Colin. Cedric didn't look at anyone, but he was stuck between Cho Chang, a pretty fifth-year girl, and Fleur Delacour, the first Beauxbatons champion.

Much like the rest of the schools who didn't have to kill off people that could very well be their friends, like Harry, Angelina, and Fred, we were given a feast. I was unsure of when the games started, but knew it could be my last big meal before then and immediately started to stuff myself silly.

Fudge sat at the head of the table and made conversation, so we could get to know one another. He talked at length with Krum about Quidditch. We all knew he was a famous Bulgarian Quidditch player; I didn't need to hear more about him.

"So, Cedric," Fudge said, which attracted my attention. "You're a volunteer."

Cedric, who had barely touched his dinner, nodded. He was looking down at his hands, folded neatly in his lap.

"Tell us about that."

He bit his lip in apprehension. "Well, uh—they said her name and I thought she was too young to compete." He said no more.

"But there are younger people still here." I was angry at Fudge. Couldn't he tell Cedric didn't want to talk about it? Was he really that thick? "Like Flora and Colin, they're thirteen, too, and A'Marie—why, she's only twelve!"

"It's different."

"How so?"

I rolled my eyes. It was easy to see that they were friends. To me, anyway, it was easy to see. Was Fudge really so stupid that he wasn't getting the message? Why else would Cedric volunteer for her? Just because she was a young girl? Because she was 'too sweet and innocent' to be forced to go fight for her life? It was plain as day that they had some special connection. I took a bite on my potatoes, waiting to see the look on Fudge's face when he realized what should have been obvious.

"Because..." Cedric looked up. "I haven't told anyone in this room this, they don't have reason to know—but Maddie Lewis is my best friend—and she's also my girlfriend."

I immediately started choking and quickly threw back my nice, warm butterbeer to cover it. Colin looked at me in horror. I was completely shocked. For the three years that I had been attending Hogwarts, I had never seen any sign that Cedric even fancied girls. It was a joke to my sister and I that he was completely asexual. But obviously—well, at least now it was obvious—he was in love with someone. A female someone.

It seemed that Cho, the girl he was sitting next to, was jealous when he said this.

"Hang on," the girl called Lavender said, as though in thought. "She's the short one, right? Blonde hair, green eyes, glasses? Really petite and pale? Is that her?"

Cedric nodded. "That's her, yes."

Lavender squealed in delight. "Ooh, you two are perfect together!" she said happily.

"But she's four years—" Harry started, but no one seemed to hear him.

Fred, who was sitting next to Cho, reached behind her and patted Cedric on the back. "Well done, Ced, well done. Way to get out there and get some."

"Mr. Weasley," Fudge warned. "Now then. It seems we have an abundance of Gryffindors this year, do we not?" I looked around the table instinctively. There was Harry, Fred, Colin, Lavender, and Angelina from Gryffindor alone. That meant only the rest of us three weren't a lion.

"I was really surprised when they said my name," Angelina said. If her tone was any indication, it was a happy surprise. "But I'm glad that Gryffindor has a fair shot."

"A very fair shot indeed," Fudge said. "So there's five Gryffindors, a Hufflepuff, and two Ravenclaws, then?"

"Excuse me!" I said, jumping out of my chair and completely unable to control my temper. Fred and Colin looked at me curiously. "I'm not a Ravenclaw, or a Hufflepuff, or a Gryffindor! I'm a Slytherin, thank you very much!"

Immediately after the words left my mouth, I regretted them. I sat down again slowly and awkwardly. How could Fudge mix up the house colors of Ravenclaw and Slytherin? They weren't that hard to figure out.

"How many times have you acted up this year, Miss Carrow?" Fudge asked. I wasn't sure if it was a personal attack against my inability to control my temper, trying to see how I was chosen for the Wizard Games, or both.

"None," I said quietly, "and I haven't docked Slytherin any points, if that's what you're thinking."

"I have," Fred said proudly from my right, "my brother and I both. We wanted to be champions, you see. I suppose he's going to be upset that I was chosen and he wasn't."

Fudge laughed. "A little sibling rivalry never hurt." He turned to Cedric. "Now, Cedric, here's what you ought to do. Make sure you win the games, no matter what happens, and then your little—"

"Excuse me," Fleur said in a thick accent French accent, "excusez-moi, Meenestair, but some of us without a romantic affliation would like to win az well. Why, we are up against"—she looked almost directly at Colin and I—"leetle children! I theenk it shall be myself, Veektor, and Claude in ze end."

"I'm not going down without a fight," Fred said indignantly.

"Now, now, take it easy—" Fudge said, trying to restore order. "I was just giving—"

"I have to go," a boy from Durmstrang said abruptly. I remembered his name being Dimitri. All eyes fell on him suspiciously.

"But my dear boy, the sun hasn't even gone done yet," the Minister said. That much was true. At Karkaroff's request, the champions names were selected late in the afternoon, and dinner began at five o'clock, when the sun began to sink slowly.

Moody, who had been standing at the door, jumped up onto his wooden leg and strode over to Dimitri, as though they shared a secret. "I'll be taking him, Cornelius," he said in a rough voice, grabbing onto Dimitri's arm and starting to hobble away towards the exit. "Just make sure Skeeter doesn't—"

At that moment, the door opened, and standing there was a woman with startlingly blonde hair and pale skin. She had a pad in one hand, a quill in the other. She had her eyebrows raised, giving her a perpetually intrigued look.

"Good evening, Minister," she said in a rather seductive voice. I wondered whether this was her tactic to stay and interview us. "Mind if I—"

"Get the bloody hell out of here, Skeeter," Moody said roughly, releasing his grip on Dimitri's arm momentarily. "No one wants you poking your nose into other people's business. This is a private dinner."

Rita Skeeter, the woman at the door, ignored him, stepping into the room more. "Oh, I already have all I need for an—interesting story." She walked up to me, twirling a lock of my hair around her finger as I flinched. "A wild girl, unable to control her tongue—" She turned to Fred, sitting directly next to me. "A mischievous troublemaker, desperate to make the front page—" Fred moved his mouth in a way that looked a lot like 'what the hell'. She ran to Krum, leaning over him and touching his bicep. "An international sports star—" She then turned to Cedric. "A star-crossed lover in a passionately dreadful situation—"

"That's enough, Skeeter!" Moody said from his spot by the door.

She crossed to him slowly, saying her next words in a hiss, like they were a curse. "A young boy with a terrible secret."

Moody, too, lowered his voice. "You know nothing about Dimitri Luvei or the rest of these champions."

"I know plenty."

"You know nothing."

"I know stories that would curl even your bushy hair, Alastor."

He glared at her for a moment, then shoved right past her, dragging Dimitri along with him.

After Dumbledore came in and ordered Rita Skeeter to leave at once, the party carried on for another few agonizing hours, as I was left alone in the insanity of my thoughts. I didn't want to compete, but at this point, I didn't have a volunteer or a choice. All I had was a fear and no plans for survival.

We were excused to go to a private lodging, a small makeshift cabin just outside of the castle. On the outside, it looked like it was about ready to cave in, but inside, it was beautiful. There were seven separate stories, with a lift to access each one. The ground floor was a sitting area, which lead off to a dining area where we would be having all of our meals. The next consequential floors were elaborate. The second floor was for the Durmstrang boys; the third for the girls. The fourth was for the Beauxbatons boys; the fifth for the girls. The sixth floor was for the Hogwarts boys; and the seventh for the girl.

There was a way to get to the roof, too, which was actually a separate floor in the cabin. However, Fudge claimed it was outside. This, I assumed, was just so he could say there were seven floors. The roof acted like the Great Hall; the ceiling was bewitched the look like the sky outside. It even rained there if it rained outside, or there was a breeze, and so on.

When I got to my room, I immediately fell onto the bed.

I was doomed.

Sup people. I hope you liked this chapter. The thing with Dimitri will be explained eventually and if you think you know, then please don't say anything. If you're right, I don't want you to spoil it for other readers. Um...and yeah. Who's POV should I do next chapter? Please tell me in a review. :)

- Hatter of Madness