Author's note: This series follows the books but will include details from the movie series for drama. Please note that the major events of the story remain true to the series and will be summarized into small sections to help progress to the story's love interest. I do not want to be claimed for plagiarizing but the original story line is needed to explain the changes in character development.
M rating for sexual content anticipated to start in year 4.
Disclaimer: I own nothing of the Harry Potter series. Thank you to J.K. Rowling for bringing us the wonderful Wizarding World of Harry Potter.
The Doting Rival
Chapter 22
The following week, Percy and Mr. Weasley were barely home. They left before anyone else woke for the day and returned home well after supper. "He hasn't had to work weekends since the days of You-Know-Who," Mrs. Weasley sighed. "They are working him far too hard."
"Well, Father's trying to make up for his mistake at the match. Truth be told," Percy added, "he shouldn't have made a public statement without clearing it with the Head of Department first -"
"Now, don't you go blaming your father for what the wretched Skeeter woman wrote!" Mrs. Weasley quickly barked.
"Rita Skeeter never makes anyone look good, Mother. You recall she interviewed all the Gringott's Charm Breakers once, and called me a 'long-haired pillock'?"
The clock on the wall had whirled, catching Mrs. Weasley's attention. Mr. Weasley's hand moved from work to traveling. "Oh! Your father's coming!" A second later, it moved to home and they heard him calling from the kitchen. "Coming, Arthur!"
The couple returned momentarily, a dinner tray in tow. "What a day!" Mr. Weasley exclaimed. "Rita Skeeter has been buzzing around looking for more Ministry mess-ups to report on. And now she's found out old Bertha has been missing for weeks. I'm sure it will be in tomorrow's headline."
"Mr. Crouch is very lucky she hasn't found out about Winky," Percy replied.
Mr. Weasley saw Hermione pike up at the mention of the house elf. Before she had a moment to comment, her changed the subject. "I think you all better go upstairs and make sure you have everything packed properly before you leave tomorrow."
There was no arguing to be had. Everyone knew how hard he had been working and did not want to ruin his short evening home. Adelyn had everything ready that morning, so she opted to help Ron finish. He always was the procrastinator.
She was helping him organize his quills and books when she laid eyes on a maroon lace frilled dress thrown across the chair. "Ron. . . what is THAT supposed to be?"
Just then, Mrs. Weasley entered carrying an armful of fresh laundered Hogwarts robes.
"Mom, you've given me Ginny's dress." He held it out to her.
"Of course, I haven't. That's for you. Dress robes were on the school list."
"You've got to be kidding," Ron said horror-struck. "I'm not wearing that, no way!"
Adelyn was trying desperately to stifle her laughter.
"Everyone wears them, Ronald. They're all like that. Even your father has some."
"I'm never wearing them."
"Fine. Go naked. And Adelyn. Do be sure to get a picture of him. I sure could do with a laugh." Mrs. Weasley sauntered out the room and Adelyn burst into laughter.
"Oh, shut it!" Ron tossed the robes at her.
The next day, they boarded the Hogwarts Express. Hermione and Adelyn bombarded Mrs. Weasley with a hoard of thanks for hosting them the last month. "Oh, it was my pleasure, dears. I'd invite you for Christmas, but, I daresay you'll all want to stay at Hogwarts this year."
"Mum!" Ron barked in frustration. "What do you know that we don't?"
"Oh, you'll find out tonight, I expect. It's very exciting – mind you, I'm very glad they changed the rules. Now, get aboard before the train leaves without you." She directed them through the doors.
"Tell us what's happening!"
"Bye! Behave! And have a wonderful school year." She waved as the pistons hissed and the train began to move.
"This way! I've found us a cabin ahead." Hermione led Ron and Adelyn through the boxcar.
As Adelyn waited her turn behind Ron, the cabin behind her opened. Draco emerged and stopped at the sight of her. "Adelyn. You're looking better than last we met."
"Considering I was bleeding from my head, I should hope so."
That elicited a small chuckle from him. He stepped to the side as some other students excused themselves around the pair. "So, excited for the big event his year?"
"Big event? What do you mean?"
"Are you telling me you don't know? Haven't you been staying with two members of the Ministry of Magic most of the summer?" Draco looked truly shocked.
"Obviously, I don't." Silence. "So, are you going to tell me?"
"Hmmm, I don't know. What's in it for me?" He leaned against the wall and crossed his arms in anticipation.
"Well. . . how about the gratitude of a friend?"
"A friend, you say?" His eyes spaced out a moment, thinking.
"Surely, we are friends by now. . . after the last six months. . ."
"Draco! There you are!" Pansy Parkinson sashayed up the hall and looped her arm into Draco's. "You're in this cabin?" She pointed behind him. "I'll join you." She pulled him away from Adelyn and sneered at her without him looking.
"Adelyn. It's clear now." Hermione popped her head out of the neighboring cabin.
"Coming!" Her and Draco shared one last glance before retiring to their corresponding cabins.
The rain from London proceeded to follow their travels to Hogwarts. With each passing hour, it got worse. By the time they reached Hogsmeade station, it was a thunderous down pour.
"Glad we don't have to cross the lake in this weather," Hermione said earnestly as she watched the first years follow Hagrid down to the lake. Instead, they made their way to the end of the dark platform with the rest of the crowd. The climbed into one of the hundred horseless carriages that would take them to Hogwarts Castle.
The Great Hall looked its usual wonderous self, decorated for the start-of-term fest. The four House tables were decorated with gold plates and goblets and hundreds of floating candles gleamed above. It was much warmer in here than outside and the tables quickly became packed with students.
"I wonder who the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher will be." Adelyn wondered aloud. She scanned the staff table and didn't find a face she couldn't recognize.
"Maybe they couldn't get anyone," Ron offered. "I wish they would hurry up. I am starving!"
Just then, the Hall doors opened and Professor McGonagall entered with all the first years in tow. Adelyn realized this was the first year she would witness the Sorting Hat since she herself was sorted.
It seemed ages until the sorting was finished. "Finally!" Ron muttered under his breath. The feast appeared on the tables. He instantly dug in. He kept trying to talk with an overstuffed mouth.
"Honestly, Ron. Could you show SOME manners?" Hermione scolded.
When the deserts were finished and the last crumbs disappeared from the tables, Albus Dumbledore got to his feet to address the students. "Now that we are all fed, I have a few important announcements. Mr. Filch has updated the list of forbidden objects. This now includes Screaming Yo-yos and Fanged Frisbees. A complete list of the four hundred and thirty-seven items can be viewed in his office."
He continued. "As ever, the forest is out-of-bounds to students. As is the village of Hogsmeade to those below third year." Just then, the Hall doors burst open. A large square man leaning on a long staff walked towards the teacher's table. His had long unkept grey hair that unsuccessfully tried to hide his scarred face. One of his eyes was not his own; it was electric blue and rolled every which way in the socket, until it settled completely in the back of his head, only showing the whiteness.
He reached Dumbledore and shook hands with him. Dumbledore motioned him to take the empty seat at the table. "May I introduce our new Defense Against the Dark Arts Teacher, Professor Moody."
"Mad-eye Moody?" Adelyn asked. "The one your father went to help this morning, Ron?"
"Must be. Never met the man before," Ron replied.
Dumbledore proceeded with his announcements. "It is also my painful duty to inform you that the Inter-house Quidditch Cup will not take place this year."
There was a collective audible gasp from the student body. Adelyn eyed her fellow Quidditch team.
"This is due to an event that will be starting in October continuing throughout the school year, which will take up much of the teachers' time and energy. But I am sure you will all enjoy it immensely. We have the honor of hosting an event that has not been held for over a century! The Triwizard Tournament!"
Excitement filled the air. Students broke into exclamations and whooping. Professor McGonagall cleared her throat loudly to quite the room.
"For those who do not know, the Triwizard Tournament was established over seven hundred years ago as a friendly competition between the three largest European schools of wizardry: Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang. A champion is selected to represent each school and compete in three magical tasks. Eligible contenders from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will arrive in October, just in time for an impartial judge to decide the students most worthy to compete for the Triwizard Cup, the glory of their school and a thousand Galleons personal prize money."
Another eruption of excitement and applause.
"Now, eager though you all will be, the heads of the participating schools and the Ministry of Magic have agreed to impose an age restriction, as compared to previous tournaments, as an additional precaution to avoid and prevent a champion from finding him or herself in mortal danger. Only students aged seventeen years or older will be allowed to put forth their names -" boos erupted and Dumbledore's voice grew louder - "and I will personally be ensuring no underage student hoodwinks the impartial judge. So, please, don't waste your time submitting yourself if you are under seventeen. Now, it is late! Time to rest up for lessons tomorrow morning. Bedtime!"
"They're not stopping me from entering," Fred said with determination.
"I reckon a couple drops of aging potion ought to do the trick," George added.
"Dumbledore knows you're not of age," Ron warned.
"Yea, but it's this impartial judge we have to fool, not him." Fred smirked, his mind racing with ideas.
"Come on, Adelyn. We'll be the only ones left here if we don't move." Hermione elbowed Adelyn's side.
The next month didn't leave much thought for Adelyn to consider the Triwizard Tournament. The schoolwork was almost double it was the previous year. Lectures were routinely double in length. Many teachers were quick to add on additional homework or essays. Ron got stuck with a month-long personal prediction from Professor Trelawney his first day.
"You should have dropped the course, like me," Hermione teased.
Even Hagrid buckled down on work. He essentially had the students researching how to take care of the various new creatures he came across. He bribed students with house points should they choose to spend extra time at his hut helping with the crated Blast-Ended Skrewts. Adelyn would most likely volunteer her time, had it not been for her both her disgust in the creatures and the excessive homework she had to catch up on.
Professor McGonagall explained they were "drawing closer to Your Ordinary Wizarding Levels." Though, they weren't to take them until fifth year.
Professor Moody was quite the character. There had been a rumor that he had turned a student into a ferret and made it fly around the courtyard. So, when it came to his lessons, the students were on edge. Things started to stand out prominently for Adelyn the day he taught the Unforgivable Curses.
He had engorged a spider and practiced each curse on it, right in front of all the students: the Imperious Curse, that allows you to be controlled against your will by another; the Cruciatus, or torture, Curse; and the Killing Curse.
"There's only one known person to have every survived it," Moody had explained. "And she is sitting right in this room." All eyes turned on Adelyn.
They spent the rest of the lesson taking notes of each of the curses. No one spoke until the bell rang. The students talked of the curses as though it were some entertaining spectacle. But she didn't see it that way. Nor did Neville.
"Neville?" Hermione said gently.
He looked around aimlessly. "Oh, hello. Very interesting dinner – I mean lesson – what's for eating?"
An odd metronomic stomping noise limped toward them. Professor Moody clasped his shoulder. "It's alright, sonny. Why don't you come to my office?" Neville followed absent mindedly.
"Adelyn?" Draco had approached her while others were distracted with Neville. "Are YOU alright?"
"How can anyone here willing want to participate in the Tournament knowing they may be in mortal peril?" She huffed off before he could reply.