All belongs to Jk

Please enjoy my little chapter

She had almost fallen asleep. The way this man droned on and on it was enough to make her go mad. His voice was beginning to resemble nails on a chalkboard for her, but even that may have been more pleasant.

She was resting her chin on her hand just waiting, it couldn't be more than ten minutes before the class was over, or maybe she was just losing perception of time.

"Bored Black," The oaf said snapping her out of her trance.

"No sir," she sat sitting back, "just still a bit drowsy," she said before forcing a cough.

His eyes zoned in her before continuing with the class and she was right they were dismissed within the next five minutes.

"Black!" Professor moody belched out after class has finished.

"Yes sir," she said appraoching him trying to remain calm at the fact all the students were leaving one by one, and by doing so leaving her alone with him.

"You weren't here for our last lesson," he said folding his hands over the top of his staff.

"No, I wasn't I was sick as you know sir," she said

He nodded, his evil eye flicking up at her as he admired something on his desk, "Nasty thing a cold."

"Yes, sir very unpleasant," she said blandly, where was he going with this?

"Miss Black, if you don't mind would you take a seat," he said sternly before once again taking out his flask and taking a swig.

She was hesitant but the way his eye watched her she knew it was not a question, she lowered herself slowly back into her seat.

"I believe students should make up for the lessons lost during class," he said as he moved closer to her, limping as he did.

"Well yes," Atria said.

"So you're prepared," he asked, premeditating.

Atria looked around nervously, "For what?"

Her words had barely left her mouth as he pulled out his wand and pointed it at her, "Imperio."

She felt it wash over her like a misty cloud the dull yellow spark engulfing her filling her senses. She felt herself tense up. No, no it was too familiar the feeling of someone else placing themselves in your mind and shutting off your senses one by one until they where all that remained but wait. lightness, a kind of bliss of being able to take the back seat, that was new. Instead of wanting to fight she wanted to let go, to let the spell wrap her up and take her.

'Snap your wand' a calm voice echoed in her head, 'take your wand out and snap it.'

Atria stand and leave

She felt herself reaching for her wand and to give in but the little voice kept speaking out underneath it Atria stand up and leave the room.

'Don't leave,' the soft and seducing voice said again, 'Stay, You want to stay don't you.'

No, you were leaving, you wanted to leave.

'Stay!'

ATRIA GET OUT! the voice in her head screamed and she moved quickly running straight from the room her chest heaving, she didn't stop running, she had to get away as if her life depended on it. Her skin no longer felt like her own, it wasn't hers anymore. She felt so blurry like her mind was scattered into pieces and they were all collecting one by one in jumbled order making no sense.

Tom's voice echoed through her head and the familiar feeling of no control still sat in her. She dropped to the ground as her chest moved rapidly keeping up with her sobs, she was crying.

It was frightening like a place inside her had been empty and when someone took the opportunity to slip inside it completed her, like the void that had been ripped from her was full. She placed her hand on her chest trying to calm herself, he had come to close, to close. But she had beat him, she had not given into the curse, she had a moment of being pleased with her victory, would he leave her alone now, surely he wouldn't make her do it again. She leant her head against the brick wall.

What a bastard.

The ship rose out of the water, gleaming in the moonlight.

It had a strangely skeletal look about it, as though it was a resurrected wreck, and the dim, misty lights shimmering at its portholes looked like ghostly eyes.

Finally, with a great sloshing noise, the ship emerged entirely, bobbing on the turbulent water, and began to glide towards the bank.

A few moments later, they heard the splash of an anchor being thrown down in the shallows, and the thud of a plank being lowered onto the bank

"A ship how original," Atria said.

"Not even a little bit of excitement, A tiny bit," Daphne asked as she applauded with the rest of the school.

Atria shook her head before looking sadly over to Daphne, "Not even in the deepest pits of my cold heart."

Daphne smiled rolling her eyes, "whatever you say."

The students from Beauxbatons made their way into the castle in their light blue uniform. Only about a dozen of them had come out of the carriage. And Durmstrang would probably have the same amount.

The great hall was filled with excited chatter as everyone one arrived for the feast. While the Beauxbatons were dainty and polite, the students of Durmstrang were more rugged looking.

Pansy had squished herself next to Draco in between the group of Durmstrang students who had sadly decided to sit at the Slytherin table. It was always feeling a bit crowded but even more so now. They were everywhere, sitting wherever they could fit.

They were all chatting about something while Atria sat silently in a day dream-like state, and it wasn't until she heard her name that she snapped out of it.

"Atria what do you think?" Daphne asked about who knows what.

"I think this table is starting to feel a bit crowded," she said dismissively. Some of the Durmstrang students laughed, but none of the Slytherin ones did.

"And who is this?" asked one of the boys with a rich Russian accent.

Adrian Pucey gave her a cruel smile, "This gentleman is little Atty Black," he said, he then turned to whisper something in the ear of the boy who asked, who in turn turned his eyes om her with a glint of disgust.

"What was that Pucey?" Atria asked.

He turned back to her giving her a fake smile, "oh, Just informing them of your sparkling reputation."

"I don't believe that for a minute seeing as you don't know the first thing about me Pucey," she said staring him down.

"I used to think I did," he said coldly, "I thought you were a lot smarter then you looked, apparently I was very very wrong," he finished with a hiss.

"Oh don't mind her", Pansy said cheerily trying to win their attention back, "She's just bitter."

Atria rolled her eyes but ignored it, Pansy was running and of original material. She had seen the way Draco's fists clenched, but he wasn't looking at her, he looked like he was trying his best to ignore her altogether.

"The moment has come," said Dumbledore, smiling around at the sea of upturned faces.

"The Triwizard Tournament is about to start. I would like to say a few words of explanation before we bring in the casket just to clarify the procedure which we will be following this year. But firstly, let me introduce, for those who do not know them, Mr Bartemius Crouch, Head of the Department of International Magical Co-operation," there was a smattering of polite applause."and Mr Ludo Bagman, Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports."There was a much louder round of applause for Bagman than for Crouch, perhaps because of his fame as a Beater, or simply because he looked so much more likeable. He acknowledged it with a jovial wave of his hand.

Bartemius Crouch did not smile or wave when his name was announced.

"Mr Bagman and Mr Crouch have worked tirelessly over the last few months on the arrangements for the Triwizard Tournament," Dumbledore continued, "and they will be joining myself, Professor Karkaroff and Madame Maxime on the panel which will judge the champions' efforts."

At the mention of the word 'champions', the attentiveness of the listening students seemed to sharpen.

Perhaps Dumbledore had noticed their sudden stillness, for he smiled as he said, "The casket, then, if you please, Mr Filch."

Filch, who had been lurking unnoticed in a far corner of the Hall, now approached Dumbledore, carrying a great wooden chest, encrusted with jewels. It looked extremely old.

A murmur of excited interest rose from the watching students.

"The instructions for the tasks the champions will face this year have already been examined by Mr Crouch and Mr Bagman," said Dumbledore, as Filch placed the chest carefully on the table before him, "and they have made the necessary arrangements for each challenge. There will be three tasks, spaced throughout the school year, and they will test the champions in many different ways ... their magical prowess –their daring – their powers of deduction – and, of course, their ability to cope with danger."

At this last word, the Hall was filled with a silence so absolute that nobody seemed to be breathing.

"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.

The walls fell apart to reveal a large goblet, billowing with blue and white fire.

Atria walked into the great hall which now glowed with a blue light. The goblet sat in the middle of the room as the blue fire burnt inside of it. It sat on a tall pedestal, surrounded by a blue line, some protection spell of sorts.

"Atria," she heard her name called she turned around to see Hermione.

"There you are," Atria said walking over to her.

They had decided it best while everyone was hip hip hora for the tournament that they would try and keep ahead of there classes. And while yes there was a library they had opted for studying here just to keep an eye out on the maybe champions of the schools.

"How is it so far?" she asked taking her books out of her bag as she sat down.

Hermione shrugged, "A few underage students have tried but I do believe this gathering is about Fred and George Weasley's proclamation that they've solved it all."

"Really," Atria said somewhat amused, "Well, at least it will be fun to watch."

They sat for about half an hour chatting as they worked their way through there homework, the odd student putting their name in every minute, it seemed almost all of the Durmstrang students had entered while only the odd Hogwarts or Beauxbatons put their name in.

Soon enough she saw Harry come into the hall, Ron by his side.

"What are you two doing," Harry asked as they approached.

"Your studying," Ron asked staring down at them shocked.

"Yes Ronald studying," Hermione said cooly.

Harry gave Ron the side eye as if to say I told you so before turning back to Atria, "So whose put their name in so far?"

She shrugged, "The odd Hogwarts student, all of Durmstrang it would seem."

"Bet some of them put in last night after we'd all gone to bed," said Harry. "I would've done if it had been me ... wouldn't have wanted everyone watching. What if the Goblet just gobbed you right back out again?"

"And if you had I would come after you Harry Potter," Atria said sternly.

"Make that the two of us," Hermione finished.

Harry eyed the two girls as they joined ranks, "I didn't," Harry said.

"Ahh so you do have some self-control," Atria teased.

"Yes I do," Harry said jesting back.

"Diggory hasn't yet," Hermione stated.

"What about Warrington?" Ron asked.

"Yes," Atria replied.

He huffed, "No way is a Slytherin going to be our champion," Ron said resentfully before looking to Atria, "no offence."

"Some taken."

"Done it," a voice said behind them atria turned around, Fred and George Weasley were grinning like the Cheshire cat behind them with lee Jordan.

"Just taken it," George added.

"What?" said Ron.

"The Ageing Potion, dungbrains," said Fred.

"One drop each," said George, rubbing his hands together with glee.

"We only need to be a few months older."

"We're going to split the thousand Galleons between the three of us if one of us wins," said Lee, grinning broadly.

"I'm not sure this is going to work, you know," said Hermione warningly. "I'm sure Dumbledore will have thought of-

"No, please don't," Atria whispered to her, "I want to watch."

Hermione shook her head.

It didn't matter anyway, Fred, George and Lee ignored her.

"Ready?" Fred said to the other two, quivering with excitement.

"C'mon, then – I'll go first, "Fred walked right up to the edge of the line, and stood there, rocking on his toes like a diver preparing for a fifty-foot drop.

Then, with the eyes of every person in the Entrance Hall upon him, he took a great breath and stepped over the line.

For a split second, Harry thought it had worked – George certainly thought so, for he let out a yell of triumph and leapt after Fred – but next moment, there was a loud sizzling sound, and both twins were hurled out of the golden circle as though they had been thrown by an invisible shot-putter.

They landed painfully, ten feet away on the cold stone floor, and to add insult to injury, there was a loud popping noise, and both of them sprouted identical, long white beards.

The Entrance Hall rang with laughter.

Even Fred and George joined in, once they had got to their feet, and taken a good look at each other's beards.

"I did warn you," said a deep, amused voice, and everyone turned to see Professor Dumbledore coming out of the Great Hall.

He surveyed Fred and George, his eyes twinkling.

"I suggest you both go up to Madam Pomfrey. She is already tending to Miss Fawcett, of Ravenclaw, and Mr Summers, of Hufflepuff, both of whom decided to age themselves up a little, too. Though I must say, neither of their beards is anything like as fine as yours."

Fred and George set off for the hospital wing, accompanied by Lee, who was howling with laughter,

"And just think that could have been you," Atria said as they left the hall.

"I wouldn't," Harry said exasperatedly.

"Whatever you say, Potter," Atria said peering back down at her book.

"So it's Potter now," Harry said bemusingly.

Atria looked back up at him a cheeky glint in her eyes, "It's Potter whenever it suits me."

The night the whole school had held their breath for arrived, the champions were to be revealed, and as everyone ate excitedly, Atria had an odd feeling in her stomach that like all things at Hogwarts this too would somehow go array.

She caught Hermione's eyes and she gave Atria a small tight-lipped smile which Atria returned.

"Why where you hanging out with her?"

"Who?" Atria asked turning to Daphne.

"Granger?" Daphne said softly trying not to be heard by their fellow school mates.

"Hermione," Atria shrugged, "We just study."

"But why her?" Daphne asked coldly.

"She's easy to work with," Atria said simply.

"but she's a.." She trailed off, and Atria found herself waiting for the inevitable word.

"Yes?" She asked

Daphne looked at atria from the corner of her eye, straightening out her skirt as she sat, "Don't make me say it."

"Just don't say it, how about that?" Atria said bluntly.

"Alright whatever," Daphne said begrudgingly.

"Well, the Goblet is almost ready to make its decision," said Dumbledore. "I estimate that it requires one more minute. Now, when the champions' names are called, I would ask them to please come up to the top of the Hall, walk along the staff table, and go through into the next chamber," he indicated the door behind the staff table – "where they will be receiving their first instructions."

He took out his wand and gave a great sweeping wave with it;

At once, all the candles except those inside the carved pumpkins were extinguished, plunging them all into a state of semi-darkness.

The Goblet of Fire now shone more brightly than anything in the whole Hall, the sparkling bright, bluey-whiteness of the flames almost painful on the eyes.

The flames inside the Goblet turned suddenly red again.

Sparks began to fly from it.

Next moment, a tongue of flame shot into the air, a charred piece of parchment fluttered out of it – the whole room gasped.

Dumbledore caught the piece of parchment and held it at arm's length, so that he could read it by the light of the flames, which had turned back to blue white.

"The champion for Durmstrang," he read, in a strong, clear voice, "will be Viktor Krum."

Of course, Atria thought as the hall erupted in cheers of applause.

Viktor Krum rose from the Slytherin table, and slouch up towards Dumbledore, He turned right, walked along the staff table, and disappeared through the door into the next chamber.

The clapping and chatting died down.

Now everyone's attention was focused again on the Goblet, which, seconds later, turned red once more.

A second piece of parchment shot out of it, propelled by the flames.

"The champion for Beauxbatons," said Dumbledore, "is Fleur Delacour!"

The girl who so resembled a Veela got gracefully to her feet, shook back her sheet of silvery blonde hair and swept up between the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables.

Fleur Delacour, too, had vanished into the side chamber, silence fell again, but this time it was a silence so stiff with excitement you could almost taste it.

The Hogwarts champion next ...

And the Goblet of Fire turned red once more; sparks showered out of it;

The tongue of flame shot high into the air, and from its tip Dumbledore pulled the third piece of parchment.

"The Hogwarts champion," he called, "is Cedric Diggory!"

Atria watched as Warrington slouched angrily huffing along with most of Slytherin.

Every single Hufflepuff had jumped to his or her feet, screaming and stamping, as Cedric made his way past them, grinning broadly, and headed off towards the chamber behind the teachers' table.

Indeed, the applause for Cedric went on so long that it was some time before Dumbledore could make himself heard again.

"Excellent!" Dumbledore called happily, as at last the tumult died down.

"Well, we now have our three champions. I am sure I can count upon all of you, including the remaining students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, to give your champions every ounce of support you can muster. By cheering your champion on, you will contribute in a very real –"

Atria's stomach dropped.

Dumbledore suddenly stopped speaking.

The fire in the Goblet had just turned red again.

Sparks were flying out of it.

A long flame shot suddenly into the air, and borne upon it was another piece of parchment.

Automatically, it seemed, Dumbledore reached out a long hand and seized the parchment.

He held it out and stared at the name written upon it.

There was a long pause, during which Dumbledore stared at the slip in his hands, and everyone in the room stared at Dumbledore.

Please no, no, no, no, no. Surely he hadn't.

And then Dumbledore cleared his throat, and read out.

"Harry Potter."

No.

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