Tournament of Triumvirates
III. Chosen
The arrival of the foreign students did nothing to prevent the Hogwarts staff from straying from their syllabi and lesson plans. Instead, it gave them more freedom in choosing new topics to educate not only their Hogwarts students, but also the top-tiered students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang. It turns out that only the top tenth percentile of fifth to seventh year students at the two respective schools were allowed to travel to Hogwarts to gain exposure to magical English culture. Each traveling student was then assigned to the selected tier of the brightest Hogwarts students of their age group. This, of course, earned many groans from the Hogwarts students who were now not only expected to show up on time in class to make a favorable impression to their foreign peers, but also expected to answer full-detailed questions on the history of Hogwarts and the culture of the school.
"Eeeeeeuuurgh," Albus complained to his fellow dormmates, flopping his face into his pillow after a grueling double period of a History of Magic. A double period of any class was bad enough, but a combination of History of Magic, class with Ravenclaws, and the addition of foreign students who wouldn't stop questioning every aspect of English culture made Al want to launch himself off the cliffs of Hogwarts.
Leon peered at Al, sleepily from behind his Potions textbook, "Whas'up, mate?"
Before Al had the chance to respond, however, the figure of a slim blonde boy crash-landed onto Al's bed, earning a strangled yelp.
"Can you not be such a prat, Scorpius?" came Al's muffled voice from the pillow.
Scorpius gave a rare, sheepish smile towards Leon. "Haha, sorry. You guys don't know how good you have it here. The beds at Durmstrang are probably spelled to feel like you're lying on rocks."
"Are the rock-hard beds another reason why you kept on asking questions in History of Magic? Some people actually want to return to their feather mattresses," Al quipped, sitting up and ruffling his hair back into its regular messy hairdo.
Leon threw down his textbook and guffawed, "Is this why you sound like Peeves sucked the life out of you? History of Magic with foreign students? HAHAH—"
Leon's laughter was cut off as Al charmed a pillow to his face. As he removed the dented pillow from his forehead, he saw his best friend jump off the bed, slam the door, and retreat down the steps.
"So what's got him into a sour mood?" he asked Scorpius, who was now able to luxuriously lie on the queen-sized bed, arms crossed behind his head.
The blonde boy nonchalantly shrugged, and began examining the ceiling with great interest. "Oh, I think it was something Rose said during History of Magic?"
"Wait, she was in your class?"
"She's with some Ravenclaw girl – something Wood. She was pretty fit," Scorpius' eyes left the ceiling and landed on Leon, sending him a lopsided smirk. His smirk quickly left his face as he reacted to catch the pillow that Leon had launched at him.
"Hey! What was that for?"
"Sorry. That was an automatic response from my personal loyalty. Thou must throw a pillow at thy best friend's enemy who is possibly getting at his girl." Leon flashed an apologetic smile across the room, but leaned forward on his bed, as if he was planning to discuss a secret with Scorpius. "But, I'm not going to lie, Catalina Wood is fit as fuck."
Scorpius threw the pillow back at Leon's smirking face. "Wanker."
"You know it… For future references, just cast a silencing and a shield charm, alright?"
This earned Leon another accurate pillow to the face.
Dinnertime had come quickly, to the excitement of all the students. Tonight was the night where the trios of triumvirates would be chosen by the Goblet of Fire. The halls were filled with excited chatter, from both young and old students, who would only quiet down when the Headmasters took their seats at the head of the Great Hall.
Before dinner began, Professor Friedan and the other Headmasters took advantage of the time to proudly preach the importance of getting to know others within the magical community - their booming voices emphasizing the presence of unity amongst the younger generations of witches and wizards.
Rose couldn't help but roll her eyes from her seat at the Ravenclaw table, where she was sitting next to her newfound friend and roommate, Catalina Wood. Catalina had caught her eyeroll and smiled knowingly at her reaction to the headmasters' words. The school liaisons had done quite a good job magically pairing students from the other schools with one another, under the consideration of grades, hobbies, and personality type. Yet, both girls still heard whispers from (probably jealous) Hogwarts girls referring to the Beauxbatons students as "make-up wearing bints who can wave wands."
So much for wizarding unity, she thought.
Professor Friedan tapped his wand to his chalice, indicating the end of their main course and the transition to desserts. The tables, to Rose's surprise, were magically transformed into levitating serving trays, allowing students to leave their respective tables and mingle amongst one another.
Rose stuck close by Catalina, hoping to be able to find her Beauxbatons friends who had been matched up with girls from Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw. To her dismay, the girls did not run into Rose's friends, but rather into the very person that Rose did not want to meet: Scorpius Malfoy.
It wasn't as if she originally was prejudiced against Scorpius – it was the fact that every time they encountered one another, he just began to act more like an arrogant prat. And Rose had had enough of arrogant prats, especially those who had an ego larger than their brains and thought that their obnoxious laughter and smirks were attractive to apparently half of the blind female population.
As the girls approached the group of boys, consisting of Albus in the lead, flanked by Scorpius and Leon Finnegan, Rose mentally counted to ten.
Shoulders relaxed, chin up, and breathe, she heard the voice of her etiquette Mademoiselle in the back of her head. She was determined to not let her temper get ahead of herself, as it did at breakfast.
"Catalina, Rose," Albus greeted them. Rose noted that her cousin's eyes lasted on Catalina's face a moment longer than necessary.
Ah, so this will be interesting, she thought. It would be fun to play matchmaker for her favorite cousin during her short time here, especially if the Goblet of Fire didn't choose her to be a candidate.
"Hello boys. How was dinner?" Catalina chirped, unaware of the obvious attention Al was giving her.
"Wonderful. I can never get enough!" Leon responded, earning chuckles from the entire group. "Would you ladies like some cheesecake?" With the girls' earnest nods, he reached over to pluck a handful of bite-sized cheesecake cubes out of the levitating trays and handed them to Catalina and Rose.
"How's the English food treating you?" Rose lifted her head to respond to Leon's comment and noted that he had very soft, green eyes that complimented his dark olive complexion. Shaking the notion that her cousin's best mate was very much attractive, Rose laughed and responded, "It tastes just like home!"
"Home is, indeed, where the heart is," said a deep voice to her right, interrupting her conversation with Leon. Scorpius was twiddling his cheesecake cube between his fingers and casually observing Al and Catalina, who had moved several steps away from the group. The two seemed to be involved in their own little conversation, with Al speaking animatedly and Catalina nodding enthusiastically along.
Rose raised an eyebrow at the sight. Well, at least that confirmed my suspicions, she thought.
"Planning to play matchmaker, Weasley?" Scorpius said, noting her raised eyebrow. "From the looks of it," he continued, "it seems like Al has never snogged a girl before in his entire life. Isn't that right, Leon?"
Rose couldn't help but release a small, strangled laugh from her throat at the comment. Leon, however, was crouched over laughing at this statement, and trying not to garner attention from Al or Catalina.
The group's laughter was shortly subsided by the clanging of the Headmaster's chalice (for the third term that night, dear Merlin). A hush fell over the Great Hall, as the Headmasters rose from their seats in the front of the Hall. Rose could sense all the eyes in the Hall follow the three, as they descended from the staff's elevated seating area and headed towards the Goblet of Fire.
Once they had crossed through the age barrier, the three wizards took out their wands and positioned themselves in a triangular formation around the Goblet. "The moment that you have all been waiting for – the selection of the nine trios – will begin now," announced Professor Friedan.
The three placed their wands next to the blue fire of the Goblet and began chanting an incantation in hushed voices. Rose could sense the power of the magic being conducted, and it tugged at her heart, causing it to pound louder. She could swear that Leon and Scorpius could hear her pulse, but when she glanced sideways at Scorpius, his furrowed brow indicated that he was as anxious as she was.
There was a brief moment of silence as the Headmasters finished their incantation. Then, from the blue fire, three scraps of paper flew into the hands of each individual Headmaster, accompanied by astonished gasps and mutterings from all the students.
Surprisingly, Rose's Headmistress, Madame Poussin, a quiet lady, took the initiative to speak first in her heavy French accent. "Zee first trio to represent our three schools in zee Tournament vill be consisted of," she paused to glance at the scrap of paper, "Camille Laurent from Beauxbatons Academy!"
A roar of approval came from the Beauxbaton girls, and Rose could not help but join in with the "Bonne chance!" (good luck!). After all, Camille was the equivalent of the Head Girl at Beauxbatons, equipped with her Veela charms of sea-green eyes and blonde hair, quick wit, and athleticism. Despite this, however, Rose could not dismiss the gnawing feeling of desire in the pit of her stomach – the desire to be chosen, to be acknowledged, and to make a mark on the world beyond being the born daughter of Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley.
Wrapped in her own thoughts, Rose almost missed the selection of the other two candidates. From Durmstrang, surprisingly, was a seventh year girl named Claudia Kruger – a wiry and thin brunette who had an angular face. Finally, from Hogwarts was Finnick Gregory, the school's Head Boy and Ravenclaw Quidditch Captain.
"Kruger, who's she?" Rose heard Leon question Scorpius.
"At Durmstrang, we prize ourselves on our academic skills in the field of potion-making and defense against the Dark Arts. Kruger is one of the best duelers in the school and extremely skilled in brewing potions."
"Wow," Rose couldn't help but reveal her admiration for the thin brunette, who reached only to Gregory's shoulder.
"Impressive, right?" he chuckled in agreement. "Durmstrang isn't really a school for ballerinas or the like… No offense," Scorpius threw a smirk over his shoulder at her.
Un, deux, trios, Rose mentally counted and exhaled. She could feel her face turning a shade of pink darker than her blush and her wand hand twitched with the urge of hexing Scorpius, no, Malfoy, off the English isles. She saw the amusement flicker in his eyes, and she angrily turned away, flicking her curls, lest she lose her temper.
She closed her eyes, clenched her jaw, and wished she could disappear back to France, where the boys at least had more manners and she wasn't just seen as another Weasley. She was Rose Weasley, after all – the only girl in school with red freckles, the first in her year to cast a Patronus, the girl who can read a chapter from her textbook without falling asleep – she was…
"Rose Weasley from Beauxbatons!"
She blinked. The world seemed to spin in slow motion all around her. She saw the Beauxbatons girls clapping their hands excitedly, the astonishment on her numerous cousins' faces (take that, James!), and heard countless whispers of "Weasley, Rose Weasley?" around her.
Yes, she wanted to scream, I am Rose Weasley.
As she made her way towards her Headmistress, her head still in reverie, and the "Bonne chance!" echoing across the Great Hall, she realized this truly was one of the best moments of her life. It was a moment where she no longer dwelled in the shadows of those who came before her, but now, she is absorbing her own limelight, one that her surname cannot steal from her.
That is, until she heard the next name, loud and clear, like an alarm clock that shook her awake from her dream.
"Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy from the Durmstrang Institute!"
He walked up to take his place next to her in the most arrogant manner – his hands stuffed in that poor excuse of a funeral suit they call a uniform – with Durmstrang's predominantly male yelps and cheers behind him. Rose wanted to slap the smirk off of Malfoy's face, if such an action was even possible – it seemed like his facial muscles had permanently contorted itself to fit his obnoxious expression.
"Bonne chance, Mademoiselle," he said, leaning down so close towards her that his forehead nearly touched her sideswept fringe. His hand was extended, almost truce-like.
"Albus Severus Potter from Hogwarts!"
Rose's brain didn't even register the fact that her cousin, who had unwillingly been cast into the Tournament, had been chosen. Instead, she had come up with the most unladylike statement she had ever said ever since she began school at Beauxbatons.
It was something straight out of the male Wotters' vocabulary and utterly surprising to Scorpius Malfoy. Rose Weasley pursed her smooth pink lips, gripped Scorpius' hand in a firm handshake, and said sweetly, "Pardon my French, Malfoy, but you can suck my nonexistent dick that's longer than yours."
A/N: It's been awhile since I've written, so I apologize if this chapter isn't as long and nearly as well-written as the other two! The other two had been written in a mere hour or so, while this one took a grueling three hours, haha. Nevertheless, rate and review please, and stay tuned. :)