A/N: Because a guest reviewer left a comment about this, I'd just like to let anybody who may think otherwise know that the reason Aunt Petunia is loving towards Hyacinth is not because she's a girl. If you recall, Hyacinth asks her in her first year about Snape, and Petunia tells her that they both disliked James, but she got over it. That means of course that her relationship with her sister (and honestly, her own self-esteem and confidence) is a lot better in this AU, which is the main reason why she was willing to divorce Vernon and why she isn't cruel towards Hyacinth. She eventually, in this story, grew up and got over her jealousy, before Lily and James died. It is in no way connected to Hyacinth being a girl. And her keeping the magical world from Hyacinth is not, obviously, because she hates or fears it (or wishes she was part of it so much that she hates it). You can interpret that however you want to, really, and I'm sure most of you already did by this point.
The Quidditch world cup was a busy bustle of people the likes of which Hyacinth had never seen.
Incidentally, Ginny and the twins were there with their father. Lucius looked down his nose at Arthur Weasley, but greeted Ginny with a warm hello.
The redhead returned it, flashing Hyacinth a smile as they passed.
They found themselves in some box that Hyacinth was told contained the best seats in the stadium. Drisana liked Quidditch, and confessed that she was thinking of trying out for the team this year.
"There's an open Seeker position," she said as her eyes followed the Bulgarian team.
"You'd make a good Seeker," Blaise remarked. "Skinny enough for it."
"I don't know if that's a compliment or not," the blonde admitted, her eyes still focused on the players, "but right now I can't bring myself to care."
The Italian boy's eyes flashed to Viktor Krum, allegedly the best Seeker in the world. "Got a crush?"
She snorted. "No."
"No, we all know who Drisana's been crushing on," muttered Daphne.
Hyacinth furrowed her brows. "Who?" She nudged Drisana. "Who've you been crushing on?"
The glare the girl shot to Daphne was hotter than fiendfyre. "Absolutely no one. Daphne's got an active imagination."
Pursing her lips, rolling her eyes, Daphne let it drop, and there was silence.
"Well. Anyone else heard about this Mad-Eye Moody business?" Blaise broke the tension, and at once all the Slytherins began complaining about Lupin's replacement.
Athena was silent, lips pressed into a tight line.
. . .
That night brought dark tidings. The group of teenagers were portkeyed home with Narcissa immediately after the match, when a suspicious amount of ruckus had begun.
"What do you think is going on?" asked Tracey, chewing her lower lip.
"Could be celebrating. At Muggle sporting events, people always get drunk and act unruly afterwards. Sometimes they fight," offered Hyacinth, but the doubt was evident in her voice.
Drisana shook her head.
"It's not," said Athena.
"Then what is it?" demanded Pansy.
"Death Eaters," said Theo, voice barely above a whisper. "They've been planning this for months."
"Planning what? What are they doing?" Hyacinth had reached an unusual pitch and the panic was near.
"Nothing serious, hexing some Muggleborns, throwing up the Dark Mark in the sky, you know the usual," bit out Athena, every syllable dripping with sarcasm. Daphne moved behind her and began to rub circles into her shoulders.
"The sky?"
"There's a spell that puts the Mark in the sky, like some kind of Dark Aurora Borealis," explained Theo quietly.
"So? What now?" asked Pansy, and even her voice was level.
Blaise shrugged. "What choice is there? It's more than likely just the old fanatics, but either way we can see where this country is headed."
Drisana bristled. "They're not fanatics, they're just idealists."
"With what ideals?" snapped Hyacinth. "The ideal that the Muggleborns shouldn't be here, the half-bloods aren't much better, and the blood traitors are even worse. The ideal that they're better than everyone else just because of who their parents were, or how much money they've got?"
"First of all, the Muggleborns shouldn't. They're a danger to wizarding society and everyone knows it. Second, there's nothing wrong with being proud of your heritage or your accomplishments," Drisana was quick to fire back, her cheeks turning pink.
"Yeah, well, your heritage is hateful, so you can be proud of that if you want to, but it makes you a demon."
"Oh, please, demons are for Muggles with their notions of heaven and hell."
"Of course, stupid Muggles, right, how dare anyone believe there's a cosmic balance to this cold world that is only made colder by the likes of you!"
They were inches apart, Hyacinth's lips were pulled back in disgusted fury. She had never felt such anger, not even when Drisana dismissed her as a half-blood.
She felt hands on her shoulders. It was Theo, she knew without looking. Out of all the people in the room who would dare to touch her in this state, he had the largest hands.
"Let's take a walk, Hya."
She backed away slowly, eyes never leaving the other girl, until Theo was pulling the door of the library closed behind them.
"Anything you need to say?" he asked as they approached the gardens, running a hand through dark hair.
"I hate her sometimes," she muttered.
"What makes her worse than any of the other bigots? Worse than Lucius, who I can assure you has done far worse than parrot some ignorant rhetoric? Or Narcissa, who shares the exact same beliefs? Worse than any of the Death Eaters, even?"
"For the record, I hate them too."
"But you don't shout at them."
"I would if I thought it would help."
"It won't help with her either, Hya."
She released a slow breath. "I know that."
"I know you do. Now that that's out of the way, let's look at what we can do. Dark things are in motion. We can't stop them, but-"
"What things? Theo, what exactly do you know?"
His eyes were bluer than the sky, and they looked at her with sadness and fear. "There's a plan to -to revive him. I don't know if it will work, it's sketchy, old magic that isn't performed often. I don't know anything else about it, but we've got some time. I don't know how much, but time enough for Slytherins to make plans."
Hyacinth felt like the wind had been knocked out of her. She clutched onto Theo's arm. "Revive? Why, why would they ever -"
"You'll drive yourself mad trying to understand them. I've been doing it my whole life. It doesn't matter why, anyways. What matters is what we do about it."
"So what do you want to do?"
Theo was and had always been a troubled boy. Current circumstances didn't help.
"I don't know. Narcissa is obviously arming us for a reason, but whether that reason is to resist or to serve is anyone's guess. Living under the Dark Lord wasn't exactly paradise for most of them, and I can't imagine she's keen to go through it again."
"But Lucius is at the Death Eater riot right now."
"It's complicated. If one of them flakes, and the Dark Lord does return, the ones who didn't will rat out the traitor."
"And then -"
"And then the ones that didn't stay 'loyal' die, most likely. Even if he didn't want to go -and whatever Narcissa's intentions may be, the probability is that he was just as glad to partake in the old festivities as the rest of them -he doesn't have much of a choice."
"So then, what? Do we resist? You and I know this isn't right, even if the others don't. Could you even resist, with your father?"
He paused. "It would be difficult. I would have to run away, most likely, or else suffer the wrath of my father and the Dark Lord."
The image of Theo at the mercy of some faceless horror who tortured and murdered people for kicks made something in her angry and afraid, and she wanted to take all of her friends and hide them somewhere safe and quiet until the brewing storm had run its course and passed.
But where could any of them run to?
The dilemma hung in front of them, and eventually they leaned against one another, tired, overwhelmed, and staring at the stars.
. . .
The next time Hyacinth saw Hermione Granger, it was on the train to Hogwarts. Her hair had the same happy bounce to it as always, her eyes the same curious sparkle. She had yet to change into her uniform, and was dressed in loose denim jeans and an oversized, faded red jumper that read "Gryffindor Quidditch" on the front and "Weasley" on the back in golden letters.
There was something innocent about Hermione, despite everything she'd faced. Something that had yet to meet the worst of the world.
And because Hyacinth wanted to keep it that way, she didn't tell her what was coming. Not yet.
"How was the World Cup?" she asked absently, flipping through one of their new textbooks.
"Eh. You know I don't really care for the game."
Hermione's lips twitched. "Still, I'm sure you had fun."
"Actually, Drisana and I had an argument."
"What about?"
"Nothing new," Hyacinth lied, "Just some tension about the blood purity thing again."
"Hyacinth. There's something that's been on my mind about you and Drisana." Hermione looked straight at her now.
"What is it?"
"You can't be friends with someone's potential."
"What?"
Tracey remained quiet for this interaction, eyes shifting with interest between Hermione and Hyacinth.
"You can't stay friends with Drisana just because of who she might become some day. You can't overlook her beliefs because you hope you can change them. You have to either accept her as she is or walk away."
Three out of three people in that train compartment knew that was true. Two out of three people in that train compartment knew it was a little bit more complicated than that.
Still, something would have to give with the Drisana situation.
"Anyways, Hermione," said Tracey suddenly, "D'you suppose you'll go out with Fred Weasley this year?"
Giggling, Hermione threw a jelly bean at her. "We'll see."
Coincidentally, the terrible two decided to make an appearance at that moment. They had hit an obvious growth spurt during the summer and had risen at least three inches in height (as if they weren't tall enough already) and they'd been growing out their hair (still that awful shade of orange).
They stuck their heads in the compartment door.
"Hello ladies," said George.
"Ready for another fun year at everybody's favorite institute of learning?"
Fred situated himself immediately between Hermione and Hyacinth, plucking the textbook out of her hands. "Transfiguration? Doesn't McGonagall adore you enough already, Granger?"
"She does no such thing!"
"She does," countered Tracey with a grin, "Almost as much as Snape favors Hyacinth."
"He does not!"
"Oh yes he does!" The other Slytherin stopped her with a raised index finger. "Everyone has their favorites, including McGonagall and Snape. They just so happen to be the two of you."
"That's hardly our fault," Hermione huffed.
"Well, maybe if you didn't glue the Transfiguration textbooks to your face every year -" teased Fred, and Hermione was swatting him on the arm before he knew it, yanking her book back.
"What do you want anyway, Weasley?"
"What? You wound me, Hermione, can't a bloke miss his favorite know-it-all -"
"A bloke can get out if he doesn't quit with the trash talking," snarked the bookworm.
Fred raised his hands in surrender. "Alright, alright, just wanted to inform you girls that we'll be having some guests at the castle this year."
"Guests?" asked Hyacinth with suspicion.
"Students from Durmstrang and Beauxbatons," explained George.
"Why?" Tracey inquired.
"Must be the Triwizard Tournament," muttered Hermione immediately, brows knit, "but that hasn't been done in decades, It's dangerous, people die."
"People also win honor,"
"Glory,"
"And Galleons," added the twins.
Hermione's mouth dropped open for a moment, before she was on them. "Oh no no, if you think you're stepping foot near that tournament, if you so much as think about entering, so help me God I will string the both of you up by your toes in the Great Hall, and then we'll see about your honor and glory!"
"Sounds like you're rather interested in our well-being," quipped George, nudging Tracey with an elbow and a grin.
"Somebody ought to be, because if you enter the tournament you obviously aren't!"
That was when Fred's eyes dipped down. "Nice jumper, Granger."
She might have been blushing, but her skin was too dark to give her away, and her lips were pursed in annoyance. "You can take it back if you want to get smug."
"Oh no, you keep it love, you know you can have anything you want of mine."
She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. Hyacinth was expecting her to swat him again.
. . .
At the welcoming feast, Dumbledore did, indeed, announce that they would be hosting the Triwizard Tournament that year "to foster international relations and friendships."
"But, I must tell you now that due to safety concerns, no student under the age of seventeen shall be allowed to enter. This is a serious event, and if your name is chosen by the Goblet of Fire, you are magically bound to compete."
There was, at once, loud protests from all tables except for Slytherin, who would gladly turn away an opportunity to risk their necks. Gryffindor was the loudest.
Well, at least Hermione would be happy. The twins were sixteen, which meant they couldn't enter.
Hyacinth was relieved too. She knew exactly one person that was itching to prove herself, and she would sleep better knowing Drisana was not facing the imminent risk of death so soon.
Even if they had barely spoken since that fight on the night of the World Cup, Drisana still sat next to her at dinner, they still shared glances that spoke almost as well as words.
She hated her sometimes, but it was never more than she loved her.
. . .
That night was a very late night for the fourth-year Slytherin girls, who stayed up for hours theorizing about what kind of challenges the Tournament might hold, and what the students from Durmstrang and Beauxbatons would be like.
"The Durmstrang students will be interesting," said Drisana, "They teach the Dark Arts openly there."
"Yeah, but French people are beautiful," murmured Daphne as she flicked through a copy of the French edition of Witch Weekly, to which she was met with a sharp glare from Athena.
"Not the most beautiful, of course," she added hastily, smiling at the other girl.
It had been evident for several months now what was going on between the two, and later, once everyone else had fallen asleep, Hyacinth would ask her about it.
"How long has that been going on?"
Daphne blushed, giggling quietly. They were sitting on the floor between their beds, hair tucked out of their faces in plaits, pajamas on.
"A while now. I mean, we've always been close, you know? But not like me and Pansy close. Just different. Like how you and Theo are close but you and Drisana are too, and it's different."
Hyacinth wasn't sure what she was implying, but she was more interested in Daphne's situation. Curiosity was getting the best of her.
"Is there anything official yet?"
Daphne shrugged. "Kind of? It's not like we claim each other yet, but there have been discussions between her mom and my parents about arrangements. It's just hard with these things nowadays, because kids can be fickle, you know?"
"These things?" Hyacinth knew this was a time where her lack of precise knowledge about pureblood customs was showing.
"Well, marriage. I know it sounds pretty early to be talking about that -muggles get married pretty late, don't they? -but that's the way we do it. You have to find somebody quickly, or else all the decent people will be spoken for. It just works out that Athena and I are suited for one another anyway."
Hyacinth mulled that over. The practice of arranged marriage still existed in the muggle world, but it was unusual in Britain, and she suspected that if she asked Aunt Petunia to set up a marriage for her anytime soon, the woman would have a heart attack from the shock. It was a funny image.
Still, in a lot of ways it made sense. It seemed like the magical world had a much lower rate of divorce than muggles, at least in Britain, and it was straightforward. She still didn't like the idea of not getting to choose who you married (she recalled a conversation of similar subject with Drisana) but it was probably just a cultural thing.
"So do you think you'll marry her?"
Daphne smiled, eyes drifting. "I wouldn't mind it."
Hyacinth nodded. "I mean, there's a lot worse than someone like Athena Rosier out there, so I get it."
"No," the blonde protested, "there's nobody 'like' her. Not really."
Hyacinth had to agree. Her friends were each one of a kind.
. . .
"I'm sorry for what I said about muggle religion," said Drisana softly the next morning, the orange glow of morning highlighting her skin as they sat atop the Astronomy Tower. "It didn't occur to me -and I guess it hasn't, all these years -that you might believe in it. Witches and wizards don't usually really believe, even if we participate in traditions like Christmas and Easter."
"I forgive you," said Hyacinth, because when would she not? "For the record, I do believe that there's a just force in this world. I don't know precisely what it is, but I do believe it's out there. Maybe religion isn't for you, and that's okay, but you shouldn't write people off just because they believe in it. Everybody sees things differently."
Drisana nodded, eyes wandering over the grounds, and laced her fingers through Hyacinth's.
"And anyways, not all muggle religions are the same. Some don't really talk much about heaven or hell. It's a complex subject."
"Maybe I should take Muggle Studies next year," said the blonde with a teasing smile.
"You'd probably benefit from it."
"Well, I'll have to find something to do with my time this year, since we're not having Quidditch."
"I know, it broke your heart. You can always practice and make Seeker next year."
She snorted. "What, and miss all this Triwizard business? I think not."
"It does sound pretty interesting."
"I just wish I could compete."
"It's apparently pretty dangerous."
"Not if you're smart. How bad can it be, it's meant for students?"
"Some of those students have died."
"Those students weren't raised by Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy and armed with a wealth of magical knowledge, now were they?"
Hyacinth smiled. "No, I suppose not."
. . .
Athena Rosier prepared herself, hushing the voice inside of her that repeated constantly: A leg is no price for a life, and walked into her first Defense lesson of the year, Daphne holding her hand.
Daphne was the soft to Athena's steel. The blonde girl had warm blue eyes and everything about her was brighter, sweeter. She was the still lake when Athena was the tsunami. She was, perhaps, the only person that saw through Athena's best attempts to be above it all. Daphne always knew something was wrong even if Athena appeared calm.
She breathed out, looked into still lake eyes, and faced her father's murderer.
The death of notorious Death Eater Evan Rosier at the hand of heroic Auror Alastor Moody has been reported today, April 23rd, 1980.
Athena was born in May. She never even got to meet him, never got to know him, would forever live in his shadow, forever live in Mother's grief, because the man before her decided to deal that life to Athena Rosier, just on the verge of birth in April of 1980.
Athena knew her father was a Death Eater, and the things they'd done to people weren't right, but didn't he also have a wife who adored him? A child coming who needed him? A family to be with?
What did Alastor Moody have? No family to speak of, and these days not even an Auror badge, just paranoia and trashcans that he mistook for intruders in the night.
She looked at him and wished, violently, that he had died that night.
A robotic blue eye looked straight at her. Daphne would later say the eye unnerved her, that it felt like Moody was staring into her soul, but Athena stared back with narrowed eyes.
The man began talking about Unforgivable Curses, and Athena wished Narcissa had taught her them. Don't be dramatic. You wouldn't use them, it'd be suicide. Still, the urge remained.
Moody pulled out a spider, and asked who knew what any of the three Unforgivables were.
Ron Weasley raised his hand, "The I-Imperious Curse."
"Aye," said the man with missing body parts, "That one gave the Ministry quite a hassle after the war. The Imperious Curse allows one to control the mind of another, forcing them to do your bidding. Quite a lot of those known to do You-Know-Who's work claimed Imperious to get out of Azkaban." Here, his eyes focused squarely on Drisana. "The trouble was sorting out the liars from those telling the truth."
Drisana's lips curled, but the girl had the good sense to stay quiet, and for that Athena was grateful. She loved Drisana, they'd grown up together, but sometimes her mouth got her into trouble.
Moody cast the Imperious on the spider, had it dancing about, and Granger was growing visibly agitated. Was she afraid of spiders? Or some sort of spider-rights thing? The girl was known to have a heart that bled even more than Tracey's.
It didn't really matter. It was an insect, and she had no doubt when they got to the Killing Curse Moody would have no hesitation in killing the thing.
Next, Neville Longbottom named the Cruciatus Curse. The story behind that was a sad one, and one Athena knew well. Another kid with parents lost to the war, even if they were on the other side of it. She didn't know if utter insanity was better or worse than death. She wondered how Hyacinth, who had neither a mother like Athena, nor a father like Theo (not that either of those parents had done the best job) would feel. Was death preferable?
She thought of her father, reduced to a husk of a human being, wandering Saint Mungo's insanity ward in a white robe and not even recognizing her.
She didn't know, but it didn't matter. The man who had taken her father from her was right in front of her. Bellatrix Lestrange was locked in Azkaban where Neville didn't have to ever see her, and the Dark Lord wasn't here at all to bother Hyacinth (at least, for now).
She took in a deep breath, squeezed Daphne's hand as Granger cried out at the spider's torture. Finally, Moody named the last curse. Looked at Hyacinth, said something dramatic about how she was the only known person to survive the Killing Curse.
And killed the spider.
The death of Notorious Death Eater Evan Rosier at the hand of heroic Auror Alastor Moody has been reported today, April 23rd, 1980.
Was it that quick? An instant, and the life of Lord Rosier extinguished like a candle flame that had drawn on too long?
One day, she would kill Alastor Moody.
. . .
The French and Bulgarian students arrived in October, with astounding flair. Beauxbatons arrived in a flying carriage, and Durmstrang in a ship emerging from the Great Lake, both of which were apparently large enough for the students to live in for the year, although they would be eating and attending classes with the Hogwarts population.
The Bulgarians sat at Slytherin, and the French with Ravenclaw.
A Bulgarian girl with thick dark hair and shimmering dark eyes made herself quickly acquainted with our favorite group of Slytherins.
"Yana," she said with a smile, "It is good to meet you." Her accent was noticeable, but not thick.
Drisana smiled brightly. "It's an absolute pleasure to make your acquaintance."
Hyacinth's eyebrows rose through the ceiling, and Blaise began coughing, having to be patted on the back by Pansy.
Yana ignored this, and began asking Drisana questions immediately -about the weather, the professors, the classes, the students, to which the Malfoy girl was all too eager to give her every last drop of information she had.
Hyacinth felt the strongest tightness in her chest, but ignored it. She'd never witnessed Drisana focus so much positive attention on one person, and she probably just wasn't used to it yet.
Besides, Yana obviously had to be seventeen, and she would soon realize Drisana was three years her junior and move on to the seventh-years.
Theo had a hand on her shoulder and she leaned into him, pushing away her annoyance at her blonde counterpart.
. . .
Of course, because the powers that be enjoyed testing Hyacinth's patience, Yana did not move on to the seventh-years, and indeed seemed quite content to attach herself to Drisana Malfoy.
Hyacinth was, of course, in the library with Hermione. They were doing their annotations for the second chapter of this year's Charms textbook.
"I've heard," said Hermione stiffly, suddenly, "Professor Moody's planning on teaching us how to resist the Imperious Curse this week."
"To teach us that, he would have to use it on us," Hyacinth said dismissively, circling a useful line on the page.
"He is."
Hyacinth thought about it. "It's a bit mad, but I'd rather learn in a classroom than when somebody's broken into my mind."
"It's making my skin crawl to think about him in my mind."
"Come on, 'Mione, if anyone's got the willpower to resist an Imperious, it's you."
Speaking of Hermione's willpower, a certain pair of twins decided to join them at that moment. And it wasn't the Patils.
Fred sat down across from Hermione, next to Hyacinth, while George stood behind him with a hand on his shoulder.
"Hermione," he was smiling wide, "You may recall last year when I asked you out, and you said no because there was nowhere to go. Well, Sirius Black is innocent, and we can go to Hogsmeade."
"These are all true statements," Hermione agreed absently as she scribbled down a note in handwriting only she and the professors could read.
"So, will you do me the honor of going to Hogsmeade with me this weekend?"
Hyacinth was grinning, watching Hermione's reaction. She took a deep breath, looked up at him.
"Yes, Fred, if it makes you happy, I'll join you at Hogsmeade."
George immediately clapped Fred on the back, whose mood, impossibly, had skyrocketed, and they scampered off, Madam Pince glaring at the fools.
"Finally," said Hyacinth.
"Oh shut up. And what about you? Anybody at your heels this year?"
Hyacinth shrugged. "I think Ginny's got a crush on me again, but Pansy thinks it never went away, so who knows. But that's Ginny. She's a nice girl, very driven, but I don't know." She scratched her neck awkwardly.
"You aren't interested, Hya. If you were, you'd know."
"It's not the biggest priority."
"I feel the same, but it's at the point where denying him just tampers further with my education."
"Come off it, you know you could've easily given him a flat no and he would have left you alone."
"Maybe I enjoy his company, but -"
"Enjoy whose company?" Tracey had arrived. She looked tired, but had the pleasant disposition as always.
"Fred's," explained Hyacinth, "She's just agreed to go to Hogsmeade with him this weekend."
Tracey made a pretend-shocked expression. "Who could have guessed?"
"Oh hush, the pair of you." Hermione looked back down at her notes, but she was smiling, and fooling absolutely no one.
"Anyway," said Tracey, "This Ancient Runes essay is getting the best of me, don't suppose I could have a look at either of your notes?"
Hyacinth slid her textbook to the other girl, and she began flipping to the page they were studying this week.
They settled into a quiet, familiar hum of work, until the hour grew late and they had to head off for the dorms.
. . .
There were two days remaining until the Goblet of Fire would choose a champion from each school, and Fred and George had come up with a scheme.
Which surprised no one.
There was a squabble of Hermione telling them it wouldn't work, them insisting that it would, and then the pair of them turning into wizened old men.
It was all quite amusing to Hyacinth. The only student from Slytherin entering was Cassius Warrington, a seventh-year, and the whole House was rooting for him.
Things, however, did not go as planned.
. . .
Two days later was Friday. The air was abuzz with excitement, primarily because the champions were about to be revealed, but also because it was a Hogsmeade weekend and the students would be released upon the townspeople the following afternoon.
And so they gathered, the Slytherin table crowded with Bulgarian students (Yana, of course, still clung to Drisana who was eating up the attention), waiting with tangible anticipation.
The lights were dimmed, all eyes on the glowing blue flames emitted by the ornate goblet in the front of the Great Hall.
Dumbledore silenced the students, and the first scrap of paper emerged.
"VIKTOR KRUM!" shouted the Headmaster, to raucous applause all across the hall.
The second paper.
"FLEUR DELACOUR!"
And all of Hogwarts waited with bated breath for their champion, Hyacinth hoping against hope the goblet chose Cassius.
"CEDRIC DIGGORY!"
Cedric Diggory was a Hufflepuff. A nice boy, by all accounts. But he wasn't Cassius.
Grudgingly, Slytherin applauded. At least he's not a Gryffindor.
The champions were ushered out of the Great Hall through a door on the side, and the buzz began again, everyone wondering what the first task might be.
The goblet, however, was not finished. All the students watched in shock as it spit out another paper.
Dumbledore plucked it out of the air, expression cautious and surprised. He read it, looking up grimly as everyone in the hall except for one wondered what on Earth was going.
"HYACINTH POTTER!" the Headmaster bellowed.
Everything in her went cold, her stomach dropping. She hadn't entered, hadn't even tried -and even if she had, the cup had already selected the Hogwarts champion. Everyone was looking at her.
She looked up through the confusion, and Hermione was looking straight at her, confused.
"HYACINTH POTTER!" roared Dumbledore.
Theo pushed her shoulder, Tracey hissed "Hya, you have to go."
Drisana was looking at her, more astonishment on her face than Hyacinth had ever seen, gray eyes wide.
So she stood, all eyes on her not for the first time, and straightened her spine as she walked to the front of the room.
Dumbledore's demeanor was deadly serious.
"Hyacinth, did you put your name in the Goblet of Fire?"
"No, sir."
"Did you have an older student do it for you?"
"No, sir."
He frowned. "Very well," he said, and led her to where the champions had gone.
"But -but sir, I didn't enter, I'm not -"
"Miss Potter, I'm afraid the magic is binding," said Barty Crouch, here from the Ministry for the Triwizard Tournament. "You are, as of now, a Triwizard Champion whether you chose to enter or not."
There was an uproar as Madame Maxime and Igor Karkaroff burst into the room, the other champions staring at her, expressions unreadable.
"Why does 'ogwarts get two champions? This is not fair!" declared Madame Maxime.
"And she is a minor -why then were we not allowed to bring our students under seventeen?"
Dumbledore and Crouch did their best to calm them, and they left the room with their respective champions, each still unsatisfied.
"Cedric, my boy," said Dumbledore, "The first task is a month away, and it could be anything. I should think it best if you head off to prepare."
Cedric nodded, and offered Hyacinth a friendly smile as he left.
McGonagall and Snape entered, ever the dynamic duo. Hyacinth had a running theory that they were secretly best friends.
"Albus, surely you do not mean to let her compete," began McGonagall, eyes concerned.
"I'm afraid we have no choice," he said.
"Why not? How exactly is an enchanted cup going to retaliate if we disobey it?" scoffed Snape.
"If," began Dumbledore,"Miss Potter is telling the truth -and we must assume that she is -then that means someone else put her name in that cup. This is a dangerous event, and we can be sure that whoever put her name in the cup does not mean her well. Perhaps it would be best to let events unfold."
WHAT?
Maybe it was just Hyacinth, but it seemed a little bit weird that Dumbledore was talking about how dangerous this tournament was and then proceeding to say they should just 'let events unfold'.
"You cannot be serious," Snape replied.
"I am absolutely serious. Now, off to bed, all of you."
If Snape and McGonagall were miffed at being ordered off to bed when they were grown adults, they gave no indication, and Snape led her by the shoulder out of the chamber.
He escorted her all the way back to the Slytherin dorms. Every student they passed gave Hyacinth a look that was either confused or judgmental, so eventually she just took to walking with her head down.
He stopped her just outside of the Slytherin dorms.
"You didn't put your name in, or find some clever way around the age circle?"
"No, sir. I wouldn't have entered even if I could have."
"I know. Typically, Slytherins are less concerned with glory than we are our own lives. It is no coincidence that only one from our House chose to enter. In any case, you're in it now. I suspect, for the cup to have chosen your name, someone else must have put it in under a different school entirely, guaranteeing you would be chosen. Dumbledore was correct in saying this person does not wish you well. Do you understand?"
"Somebody wants me dead or seriously injured?"
"Precisely. Unfortunately for you, that statement will always be true, but circumstances are growing riskier. I want you to lock yourself inside that library for the next month, preferably with Miss Granger to aide you, and not leave until you have prepared yourself for any possible task. Do you still understand?"
"Absolutely, sir."
Snape nodded and left with a turn of his cape.
She was met by the general Slytherin population with an air of curiosity, and perhaps a little mistrust.
"How'd you do it?" asked Flora Carrow, sitting next to her twin sister Hestia, working on some assignment.
"I didn't," she said, and it was the truth, but only some of them believed her, and she just put her head down again and made her way to her dorm.
All the girls were there.
"Cassius isn't pleased with you," Pansy commented, something gleaming in her eyes.
Hyacinth wasn't surprised. She imagined it felt rather like he'd been cheated, passed over for some seventh-year who hadn't even had the House loyalty to tell him she was entering.
But that wasn't what happened.
"I'm sorry, it wasn't me, Snape thinks -"
"Why would you, though?" cut in Pansy. "You've got enough money to last a lifetime just like the rest of us, you've already got fame and glory, wasn't it enough?"
Hyacinth glanced at Drisana. She had her head in her hands. She must have heard Pansy's accusation but she gave no indication of it.
"I just told you," repeated Hyacinth, tiredly, "I didn't put my name in. Snape thinks -"
"'Snape thinks'", mocked the black-haired girl, her voice at an unattractive pitch. "Snape would believe anything you told him, we all know you're his favorite, and how else would you get pulled? You must have cheated somehow."
"Pansy," said Tracey, forcefully. "If she said she didn't do it, she didn't do it."
"Oh, that's likely," Pansy muttered.
"Pansy, just stop," Athena cut in like a parent who had grown tired of her children bickering, "It's like you just said, there's no reason for her to enter. And even if she did, you'd have done the same thing if you knew how so why don't you leave it alone?"
Pansy pouted, but didn't fire back, and Daphne gave Hyacinth a smile and a pat on the shoulder with an offer to braid her hair before they all went to sleep. She accepted because, despite everything, there was still something soothing about Daphne braiding her hair like they were eleven again.
. . .
She missed the next sunrise; by the time she woke up, Drisana was gone, the sun was up, and Tracey was telling her she'd better get in the shower if she didn't want to miss breakfast.
Hyacinth was hoping against hope Drisana believed her, but it really didn't seem like it.
When she got out, still running her comb through her hair, Tracey was waiting, tapping an imaginary watch on her wrist.
"Alright, I'm coming," she appeased, sliding into her shoes, and they set off, the last two to leave the dorms.
"Is she upset with me?" she asked Tracey quietly as they walked towards the Great Hall.
"Not exactly. She doesn't know whether or not to believe you, and she's stressed for you because she knows this isn't safe. You should've seen her when we first got back back to the common room, all in a fit. And if you did put your name in, which I know you didn't, she's even more upset with you because you didn't tell her and also because you put yourself at risk for no reason."
At least Tracey believed her. Drisana would come around, sooner or later.
Drisana was at breakfast, but she was already engrossed in a conversation with Yana, the sight of which set Hyacinth's teeth to grinding. When she sat next to the blonde, she barely noticed Hyacinth. Tracey looked at her with sympathetic blue eyes, and Theo gave her a smile.
She had bigger things to worry about, but today was a Hogsmeade weekend and she would take what comforts she could for the day, and spend the evening in the library.
"Oh, you're going to love Hogsmeade," Drisana said to Yana excitedly, smile wide, "I'll show you around!"
Hyacinth almost flinched, but had been in Slytherin long enough to keep her face under control.
When it was time, she stood between Tracey and Theo in the line of students waiting to be released. Hermione was somewhere further back with Fred, and Tracey and Hyacinth theorized for a moment with matching grins what the pair might get up to.
Theo rolled his eyes. "No doubt the kind of nauseating ordeal that Gryffindors make out of romance."
"I think they're cute together," said Tracey.
"They're not technically together yet," pointed out Hyacinth, but she agreed.
"Speaking of together," muttered Tracey, "Anybody know when that happened?" She tipped her head in the direction of Pansy, who was hanging off of Blaise's arm with a sickly-sweet smile.
"Been brewing for a while, but knowing the two of them I doubt it'll last. Blaise is too girl-crazy and Pansy's too boy-crazy for either of them to be monogamous for long," Theo explained.
"True. I just hope it doesn't end badly. The last thing any of us need is more of a mess," commented Hyacinth, and her two companions nodded their heads in agreement.
Finally, McGonagall released the horde of students into the chilly October air, and the trio decided to head towards Honeydukes first. Tracey had an insatiable sweet tooth.
As the girl that always reminded Hyacinth of sunny days was pulling candy bar on candy bar from the shelves of her favorite shop, a girl with red hair in two French braids away from her face and constellations of freckles approached Hyacinth. She was wearing a yellow sweatshirt that said "HUFFLEPUFF" across the front in bold black letters.
"Hyacinth, I just wanted to say that I don't think you put your name in, and anyone with sense knows everything Ron's saying about you isn't true."
"Ron?" It had literally been one day. How much did this boy hate her?
Susan's cheeks turned pink. "I'm -I'm sorry, I thought you knew. It doesn't matter, he's just jealous."
"But he shouldn't be," protested Hyacinth, "I didn't ask for this and I'm not happy about it."
Susan put a hand on her arm, and her eyes were warm. "I know, honey."
Hyacinth wasn't used to being called terms of endearment by anybody but her aunt, and occasionally Narcissa. The only one of her friends that did was Hermione, who sometimes called her 'flower'. But there was nothing condescending about the way Susan said it, not like how some girls called each other things like that to make themselves seem superior. It was sweet, really, and when Susan gave her a smile and went on her way, Hyacinth was left with something strange.
"My stomach hurts," she said simply, watching the door Susan had gone through.
Tracey was laughing, and Theo smirking.
"Hya, don't look now but I think you've just caught a crush on Susan Bones," he said with a snicker.
Hyacinth shook her head. "I've never had a crush before."
"Exactly, that's why you don't know what it feels like. You're a bit of a late bloomer on that one, but you could do a lot worse, as first crushes go," answered Tracey.
"Susan's a pleasant girl, but a Hufflepuff?" Theo teased, mirth in his crystalline eyes.
"Shut up," she retorted. She felt her cheeks get hot but hoped her skin was dark enough to cover it. She still wasn't convinced she had a crush. How would she even know?
"You're blushing!" cried Tracey. Damn.
. . .
"A crush?" clarified Hermione that night, when they were up to their arms in books about random topics that Hermione thought might come up during the tournament.
"Yes," she affirmed.
Hermione gave her a sly smile. "Why do you want to know?"
"Educational purposes," lied Hyacinth with a wave of her hand.
"If you say so. You want to know what it feels like physically, or mentally?"
"Generally, I guess."
"Well, your stomach flips. You picture yourself with them. You want their attention. You blush, sometimes, but with my skin you usually can't tell."
Did she picture herself with Susan Bones? She barely knew her. They'd had classes together since they were eleven, and all she really knew about the girl was that she was nice, kind, and a decent student. She liked Herbology, which was typical for a Hufflepuff, but then, she had taken advanced and private potions lessons, so what could she say?
But when she thought about it, going to Hogsmeade with the girl, sitting next to each other at Quidditch games, sometimes eating together, sitting beside the Great Lake, a thousand other options flitting through her mind, she found herself quite interested in any or all of them.
"I haven't thought about it before," she murmured as she looked at the page on self-defense against various magical creatures.
"You'll have to tell me who the lucky one is sooner or later," replied Hermione with a smile.
"Anyhow, how was your date with Fred?"
Hermione's smile stretched to her ears. "It was nice."
"Just nice?"
"It was very nice. Now hush and make sure you're absorbing this information, can't have you dying before you've even told me who your first crush is."
. . .
"It feels like . . . you constantly want to spend time with them," Daphne answered that night. "Like they're the most interesting thing, or even if they're not, like anything would be more fun if they were with you."
"Oh, you're a sap," remarked Athena. "Anyway, for me it feels more like everything's calmer when they're around. More fun, yeah, but also just . . . more okay."
"Who's the sap now?" Daphne retorted, but she was smiling to herself.
. . .
"Listen, Hyacinth, you never tell a girl you like her, it makes you look like an idiot," her godfather told her very seriously though an enchanted mirror he had sent her.
"But how do you even know if you do?"
"You'll know when you know."
That was useless.
"In any case, let's talk about this Triwizard Tournament business. Hyacinth, I want you to be very careful. Whoever put your name in the Goblet of Fire is no friend to you."
"I've figured that one out."
"Good. Now, the tasks could be absolutely anything, so try and get ahead. The others will have an advantage over you, they've three more years of education."
A/N: Thank you for reading! If you liked it, please take the time to review. I would appreciate it. Or even just tell me what you think about the Petunia situation -or anything that came up in this chapter. I'd love to hear your theories for what's coming next.
Also, I've said this before, but just in case: I don't always agree with the actions of the characters. And if there's anything plot-wise or whatever that felt off or weird to you, I've probably already noticed it, but with school starting I don't really have the time to go back and edit every line of these chapters before posting. Also, I mean, this is the longest thing I've ever written, period. I am very invested in it and very proud of it, even if it doesn't have as many reviews or favs/follows as other stories do -I appreciate every one of you that reads this and likes it and keeps up with it.
That being said, as much as this story means to me, please keep in mind that ultimately, it's just a fanfiction. If you don't like this one, I'm sure you'll find a dozen others (more like a thousand others) on this site that you DO like, so keep in mind that if you're thinking of saying something rude/mean for no reason, it's really not necessary.