Friday, October 30th (Cont.)
"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 at the stroke of midnight. 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," said Dumbledore, "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."
Charlotte was even more glad that she hadn't eaten more than a few bites of bread pudding as her stomach flooded with dread. Viktor planned on entering the Tournament? What if he was actually chosen? What if he ended up just another name on the long list of deaths afforded to the Tournaments? She couldn't lose someone else, not so soon after Grandfather Atticus.
There was a commotion at the Gryffindor table behind her, but Charlotte paid it no mind. She made to leave the Great Hall, sliding through the crowd without having to think, but her footing was nearly lost when a group of boys brushed past her. Charlotte stumbled back, and, thankfully, someone caught her elbow before she could fall.
"Ostrowski," said a deep voice, "you should apologize."
Charlotte looked up into the face of the person that had caught her, and blushed when her green eyes met dark brown ones. Viktor Krum nodded to her gently, then focused on the other Durmstrang boy.
"I did not push her," the other boy said.
Viktor said something that, though Charlotte didn't speak Bulgarian, was probably very rude and threatening. The other boy scowled, but turned to Charlotte and spit out a crude, but ultimately polite, apology.
"Shove over, pridurok," a voice said, and Charlotte watched as Ada pushed through the group of Durmstrang students until she was at Charlotte's side. "You okay?"
Charlotte nodded.
"Come on, then," she said, reaching for the Ravenclaw's hand and pulling her away.
Charlotte turned to Viktor before Ada pulled her any farther and said, "Thank you."
She wasn't aware that his eyes followed her out of the Hall.
Saturday, October 31st
"I'm going to throw up," Charlotte muttered.
Ada moved the pillow from the other girl's face just long enough to raise her eyebrows in a rather flat way before dropping the cushion back on her head.
"Get your arse out of bed, Wright," the Gryffindor demanded. "We have things to do."
"Like what? It's eight in the morning," she muttered from under the pillow.
"Firstly, we're going out to the greenhouses to get in an hour or so of rehearsal; it'll make you feel better. Then we've got long, hot baths to take, nails to paint, hair to tame. And lastly, you have a man to woo."
"Woo?" Charlotte asked incredulously.
"Woo," Ada repeated certainly.
"You're ridiculous."
"Always. Get up."
"I'm getting."
Half way through pulling on a pair of jeans, Charlotte paused.
"How did you get into the Ravenclaw dorms?"
"Bribed a fourth year."
A thick fog rolled in from the lake as Charlotte and Ada finished their breakfast, and Charlotte hoped it would pass without leaving behind any dampness. The atmosphere of the Great Hall was subdued, though the undercurrent of excitement that had been thriving since the announcement of the Tournament wasn't absent. Ada sat with Charlotte at the Ravenclaw table, watching some of the Beauxbatons students, and throwing out a flirtatious wink whenever one of them looked in her direction. Charlotte hummed around her toast, and tried to calm her nerves, though she wasn't very successful.
After breakfast, and dressed warmly in boots, pants, sweatshirts, and cloaks, Charlotte and Ada made their way across the grounds to Greenhouse Eight. The soil was damp as they left the gravel path, and passed the Beauxbatons carriage. Charlotte had the absent thought that none of them got caught in the mud.
"Charlotte! Excusez-moi, Charlotte!"
Charlotte and Ada both turned to see Fleur and another Beauxbatons student daintily making their way towards them.
"You know them?" Ada asked quietly.
"Fleur Delacour," Charlotte said. "We met last night at supper."
"Je vous remercie," Fleur said as she caught up to them. "We 'ad 'eard zeir was a town, but we ar', ah, lost."
"Retournez vers le Grand Hall, et de prendre la route principale loin du chateau. Hogsmead est a environ vingt minutes a pied avior traverse sous les portes."
Fleur looked surprised, but only momentarily.
"Vous parlez avec la grace d'un naturel. Merci pour les directions," she said, bobbing a small curtsy and ushering the other, younger girl to follow her.
"Au revoir," Charlotte called after them.
"Au revoir," the younger girl called back.
"Your French has certainly gotten better," Ada commented as they resumed their walk to the greenhouses.
"It was all Grandfather Atticus could speak, in the end," Charlotte said quietly.
"He'd be proud of you, you know?"
"You think?"
"Charlotte, a day didn't go by that that man wasn't proud of you."
Charlotte wasn't aware how much she would appreciate Ada's position as a prefect until they were both lounging in a steaming hot tub the size of a small lake in the fourth floor prefect's bathroom. The water smelled faintly of mint, and was doing its best to chip away at the frost that had sunken into her fingers and toes. She closed her eyes and tipped her head back, letting the water cover her dark brown hair.
Ada had been right; getting in an hour of practice had relaxed her, and had taken her mind off of the Halloween Ball momentarily. But now that she was still, the doubts began to creep back in. How could she not be nervous when she would be meeting her best friend, other than Ada herself, for the first time ever? What if they didn't actually like each other? Or worse. What if he decided that he didn't like her, and refused to have anything to do with her? Viktor had been a solid staple in her life for the last five years, even if he hadn't been physically present
"Stop that," Ada said quietly. "I can feel you getting tense from over here."
Ada, who was sitting so low on her bench that she was in real danger of drowning, fluttered her eyes every few moments, fighting off the drowsiness that came with late morning. She had her hair pinned on top of her head to keep as much of it dry as possible, but it wasn't working very well.
"What if we don't like each other?" Charlotte whispered.
"You've been writing for five years. You've told him things you probably haven't told me. He's probably told you things his friends don't know either. You two know each other. What does it matter if you've never spoken?"
Charlotte sat up straighter, wet hair hanging limply around her shoulders.
"I tell you everything," she said a little desperately.
"I know."
"You're my best friend."
"I know..."
"Viktor's not a... a..."
"A replacement?" Ada asked, a little laugh under her words. "Charlotte, I know that. What you have with Viktor is different than what you and I have. That's not bad, just different. It doesn't make either of us more important than the other. You're my best friend, too, you know?"
"I do know."
"Then stop worrying. We're not going to stop being friends just because you fall in love with this boy."
"Love?" Charlotte all but yelped.
"Puh-lease," Ada said, standing up and stretching out of the water to snag her towel. "Tell me, right now, to my face, that you don't love this boy, at least a little bit."
"I... I don't have a solid answer for that."
"Thought so."
Supper that night was held a few hours early, and was an informal affair. Charlotte and Ada wandered through just long enough to make themselves sandwiches before heading back to the Ravenclaw common room to relax for just a bit longer before they had to be ready. The Ball, they had been told, would begin promptly at eight o'clock, and the Tournament Champions would be selected at midnight.
As Charlotte answered the riddle to open the common room door, the two of them heard a small commotion coming from one of the upstairs dorms. They both climbed the stairs to find Marietta Edgecomb being harried by a large, dark bird.
"Orion!" Charlotte commanded.
The bird turned from Marietta, and within a few wing beats was resting on Charlotte's shoulder. He screeched ominously at the other Ravenclaw student from his perch.
"What is going on in here?" Ada asked.
"That bird attacked me!" Marietta half-shouted.
"Seeing as Orion knows very well who is and who is not a dorm mate of mine," Charlotte said. "I have to ask what you were doing in here. Your room isn't even on this floor."
"I was just - "
"You were just telling the truth," Ada said, pulling her wand from her jeans pocket and brandishing it.
"I saw the bird leave the Durmstrang ship," Marietta said quickly. "I wanted to know who the letter was for."
"Me," Charlotte said simply. "Not that it's any of your business."
Marietta scowled.
"Don't you have a dress to be putting on?" Ada asked, taking a step forward.
Marietta flinched back, then scuttled around them and out of the door.
"Scavenger," Ada spat.
Charlotte ignored her; instead, she turned to running her fingers through Orion's breast feathers to try to calm him down. He huffed some, and turned to preen Charlotte's hair as she untied Viktor's dragon hide case from his talon. Unrolling the small piece of parchment, she read,
Charlotte,
I would very much like to meet you in the entrance hall at eight o'clock if you are still willing to let me escort you to the Ball tonight.
Viktor
"Well?" Ada asked.
Charlotte handed her the slip of parchment and headed towards her desk to pen a reply.
"Not very confident, is he?"
"I think he's just as nervous as I am."
Viktor,
Eight o'clock cannot come soon enough.
Charlotte
Seven o'clock came before Charlotte was ready. She had painted Ada's nails a bright blue to contrast her black gown; it sat off her shoulders and conformed to her body before flaring out at the knee. Her hair had been curled and coerced into a twist on the back of her head, leaving her sun bronzed shoulders on display. She wore no necklace, but had put in a pair of small diamond earrings her father had bought her a previous Christmas. She wore a slim bracelet to match.
In thanks for painting her nails, Ada made sure Charlotte's eyeliner was perfectly sharp. She charmed Charlotte's hair to keep it soft should the weather turn, but otherwise left it to its natural waves. Her dark brown hair was complemented by the wine red of her dress, and she wore a pair of pearl earrings. Her nails were painted a soft gold.
Charlotte fidgeted with the neckline of her dress, and tried not to focus on the fact that, while her chest was modestly covered, Ada had somehow managed to talk her into a backless dress. She took a deep breath, and didn't realize she was holding it until Ada bumped her shoulder.
"You do actually have to remember to breath," she said, setting a box on Charlotte's bed.
"What's that?"
"This is a present from Dad," she said, pulling the lid off. From inside she pulled an intricate gold filigree mask. It housed a few clear stones, and was taller on the right side; Charlotte suspected it would wrap around her face and settle in her hair.
"It's beautiful," Charlotte said.
"Thank you."
Ada set the mask aside and stuck her hand back in the box. She pulled out a second mask made of the same gold filigree, but of a different design. This one was even on both sides, and was dotted with the occasional pearl. She held it out to Charlotte.
"My dad says 'Happy Halloween'."
Charlotte took the mask reverently.
"He didn't have to do this," she said.
"My dad loves you. He thinks you're a good influence on me."
"I am a good influence on you," Charlotte chuckled. "Thank you."
"That's what friends are for."
Charlotte and Ada left the Ravenclaw dorm at quarter to eight, having fixed their masks to their faces with a simple charm. They passed several other students, all in formal robes and dresses and sporting their own masks, but no one stopped to speak with them. Charlotte silently thought it was because of the way Ada tended to stride with a singular purpose wherever she went, and people usually stepped out of her way.
They walked arm in arm until they reached the entrance hall doors. Charlotte felt her feet stumble, and Ada clasped her elbow to make sure she didn't fall or step on the hem of her dress.
"Are you okay?"
Charlotte shook her head. "I think I'm going to be sick."
"Oh, for Merlin's sake!"
Ada led Charlotte away from the doors.
"I love you like you're my own sister," Ada said, "but you're being ridiculous. This boy sent you an owl not four hours ago to make sure you still wanted to meet him. He is waiting for you in that entrance hall, and maybe he's not going to be exactly what you've pictured, but no one ever is. I promise you he hasn't changed his mind. Have you?"
"No," Charlotte said after a deep breath. "Give me a moment. You go on ahead."
"If you aren't in there in ten minutes, I'm coming back to drag your arse in."
"Thank you," she said, a small smile at the corner of his lips.
Ada left her with a light pat on her shoulder. Charlotte took a deep breath and counted to ten before slowly releasing it like she had been taught to do in her music lessons. She wanted to meet Viktor, no matter how nervous her stomach was. So the question was: was she going to let something like a little fear stop her from doing something she had wanted to do for years?
No. The answer was no.
Charlotte pushed away from the wall and stepped around the doors before she could talk herself back out of it. The entrance hall was full of students from all three schools, but only a few of them wore the formal summer uniform assigned to Durmstrang. Several Durmstrang students lingered in twos and threes, watching as people came from their common rooms and the Beauxbatons carriage outside, but only one of them stood alone.
He was tall, taller than Charlotte herself and she was no goblin, with dark hair cut short. He wore a gold half mask, though Charlotte couldn't make out any fine details from the distance. His jaw was sharp, and his nose a little large, and when he turned towards the door and caught her eye, Charlotte realized exactly who she had been writing to for the last five years.
"Charlotte," he said, though there was a little hesitation in his voice.
"Viktor," she said, and there was no way to stop the smile that spread across her face.
Viktor smiled in response, and held his hand out to her. She took it, and let him wrap her arm in his. They turned to walk into the Great Hall, but Charlotte stopped them short.
"Charlotte?"
"I am very, very glad to meet you, Viktor Krum."
Viktor's mouth dropped open slightly in surprise.
"Why did you never tell me?"
Viktor's eyebrows furrowed, and he frowned.
"I vas never Viktor Krum to you. I vas only ever Viktor. All I ever vanted to be vas Viktor."
"Viktor is the only thing that matters," Charlotte said certainly. "Besides, you know how I feel about Quidditch."
Viktor's laughter followed them into the Great Hall.