Chapter 3
The Champions
Thursday night arrived sooner than expected. The Great Hall buzzed with students, and the entire faculty had assembled. The Goblet of Fire's flames had shifted to a new hue, turning a dark red. This signaled that the three champions had been selected.
The Goblet was brought into the Great Hall as students finished their dinner, eager for the results. Once the tables had been magically cleared, the two headmasters and one headmistress made their way to the Goblet of Fire.
Athena and Igor Karkaroff, Durmstrang's headmaster, stood behind Dumbledore, who placed his hands on the Goblet, causing the fire to stir as if awakening.
The flames danced joyfully before spitting out a parchment.
"And now, the moment we've all been patiently waiting for...the Hogwarts champion is...Mr. Zeus Shorthorn!" Albus proudly announced, prompting cheers from the hall. Banners bearing Zeus's image descended from above the Slytherin table. Zeus rose from the Slytherin table as Dumbledore called him forward. The head boy confidently approached, brushing his blonde hair away from his brown eyes, a radiant smile on his face. Dumbledore warmly congratulated him and asked him to stand aside.
The Goblet then yielded another name.
"Mr. Viktor Krum has been chosen as the champion for Durmstrang!" Dumbledore declared in the same cheerful tone. Similar banners descended over the Ravenclaw table where Victor Krum had been seated.
Viktor Krum stood up and made his way to Dumbledore. He shook hands with the headmaster, while Karkaroff pulled him into a one-armed, sturdy hug before positioning him next to Zeus. The two champions exchanged congratulations and handshakes.
Sarah remained firmly in her seat, her stomach twisted with apprehension. Only the AIMS champion had yet to be announced. She had had a bad feeling about this all day. She knew that the reckless act she had committed earlier, just to prove something to Dennis, might be the gravest mistake of her life. Unless, by some miracle, the universe chose to forgive her foolishness.
The Goblet produced the parchment for the AIMS champion. Sarah sank in her seat, her face contorted with horror. She knew it was her name on that slip of paper.
"And our final champion, representing AIMS, is Ms. Sarah Lincolns!" Dumbledore proclaimed, applauding for her while locking eyes with her.
Instant regret and dread washed over Sarah as banners bearing her name descended over the Gryffindor table. She rose and trudged over to Athena. Her great-aunt wisely wore a façade of happiness, but Sarah knew she was equally taken aback, shocked, and perhaps even disappointed that Sarah, who was thought to be level-headed, had entered her name into the tournament.
"The Triwizard Tournament has officially begun!" Dumbledore announced, clapping for the champions.
"Dumbledore..." Athena called, stepping closer to him, her brow furrowing in concern as she gazed at the Goblet.
"The fire in the Goblet...why hasn't it extinguished?" Athena asked tensely.
"I'm not certain..." He replied puzzled, his voice a whisper.
"Something is very wrong." Athena said as the Goblet began to tremble.
The once gentle flames appeared to grow angry and dark. Suddenly, the Goblet unleashed an uncontrollable surge of fire into the sky, and another parchment flew out. Then, just as quickly, the flames sputtered out, vanishing into nothingness. The parchment floated like a feather, teasing the silent hall. Dumbledore caught it in his hand, reading the words written upon it.
The other two heads watched in anticipation, but Dumbledore's face turned ashen as he muttered incomprehensible words under his breath.
"Dumbledore?" Karkaroff queried, his tone demanding answers.
"Harry Potter!" Dumbledore declared, his voice clear and calm.
The hall, previously filled with cheer, fell into an uneasy silence before erupting in whispers.
"HARRY POTTER!" Dumbledore reiterated, raising his voice.
"Come forward, and claim your slip, Mr. Potter!" Dumbledore said, locking eyes with the boy who tried to shrink away from the crowd. His friend, Ronald, nudged him forward.
The 14-year-old pushed his glasses up and walked toward Dumbledore, confusion etched on his face. He accepted the parchment and looked up at the headmaster.
"Sir... I don't understand..."
"Not here, Harry." Dumbledore replied, his voice still composed.
"Will the champions, along with their headmasters, headmistress, and the Triwizard committee, please join us in my office." Dumbledore requested, leaving Athena and Sarah in a state of disbelief. Sarah being chosen was one thing, a consequence of her own actions. But this boy, Harry Potter? He was only 14; there was no way he could have crossed the age line that the heads had established. Moreover, this was the Triwizard Tournament—how could there be a fourth champion?
Sarah and Athena proceeded towards the Hogwarts headmaster's office in a somber silence. Sarah keenly sensed her great-aunt's simmering frustration. It was clear to her that Athena hadn't anticipated such a blatant act of defiance from her, especially given the promise Sarah had made to her parents.
"Aunt Athena..." Sarah began apologetically.
"No, Sarah, please refrain from speaking." Athena responded firmly. This was meant to be a celebratory occasion for AIMS, but all Athena felt was a sense of impending dread. This was her family—her great-niece, Michelin's daughter, and Margery's granddaughter. It was difficult for her to feel anything other than trepidation.
"I'm sorry…I honestly hadn't intended to put my name in…I was simply trying to prove a point to Dennis, and then the parchment caught fire, and…"
"What's done is done, Sarah. You must realize that you have no choice now. You are obligated to compete."
"I understand. I'm not afraid... I'll make you proud...make AIMS proud, I promise!"
"Oh, Sarah! We are all already immensely proud of you. Just ensure you come out of this unharmed."
Sarah lapsed into a contemplative silence, deeply affected by the gravity of Athena's words.
"Like I said, we cannot change the past. Let us focus on the future positively. You possess immense potential, Sarah, and I have no doubt that you will excel." Athena encouraged, offering words of solace.
Their journey halted before a formidable gargoyle.
"Melon Mellows!" Athena uttered, prompting the gargoyle to revolve and reveal a spiral staircase.
"Melon Mellows? Like the candy?" Sarah inquired, her amusement briefly breaking the tension.
"Don't ask! This man is absolutely ridiculous! I will never understand what she saw in him. But, never mind, let's proceed. Climb up..." Athena declared, realizing the incongruity of her words as she addressed Sarah. Sarah frowned in confusion but obeyed.
Upon entering the office, they were met with a scene of pandemonium, which was somewhat expected.
Karkaroff was fervently accusing Dumbledore of cheating, while Barty Crouch was aggressively interrogating Harry Potter to determine how he had circumvented the age barrier. Rather than devising a plan of action, everyone seemed to be directing their ire toward the young boy.
"Gentlemen!" Athena's sharp tone cut through the cacophony, instantly silencing the room's occupants. All eyes turned to her.
"What's done is done. Instead of bickering over how this boy managed it, perhaps we should focus on what to do next?" Athena suggested, her stern gaze sweeping the room. The gathering consisted of the entire staff assisting with the tournament—the Triwizard Support Committee—which included the heads of all the houses, as well as a few other teachers and personnel such as the groundskeeper and caretaker.
"I cannot speak for Headmistress McGonagall, but Durmstrang will not tolerate such an insult. Hogwarts has evidently deceived the Goblet into recognizing a fourth school!" Karkaroff asserted angrily.
"Enough, Mr. Karkaroff. He is just a child, clearly incapable of orchestrating such profound magic." Athena retorted sharply.
"If you have objections, I suggest you raise them with your ministry, which was evidently eager to participate in the tournament, even if it meant disregarding the French by force." Athena snapped, glaring at Karkaroff, who begrudgingly fell silent, his glare never wavering. Sarah raised an impressed eyebrow at her Great Aunt's prowess to shut a room full of men up.
"Barty, we leave this matter in your capable hands." Dumbledore said, turning his attention to Mr. Crouch.
Mr. Crouch pondered the situation for a moment.
"The Goblet of Fire is a magically binding contract. By placing your names in the Goblet, you have essentially signed it. There is no going back from this. Harry Potter must compete. If what Mr. Potter claims is true—that he did not enter his name into the Goblet—then the perpetrator will reveal themselves in due course..." Mr. Crouch explained, his gaze fixed on Harry.
"You cannot possibly suggest, Mr. Crouch, that we put his life at risk without taking any action!" Minerva protested vehemently, coming to her student's defense.
"There must be some course of action we can pursue...may I suggest expulsion?" Snape offered, earning a scowl from Minerva.
"No!" She snapped at him bitterly, and he quickly retreated, raising his hands in a surrender.
"It need not be so extreme, Professor Snape. However, there is a provision in the tournament's rules..." Ludo Bagman began, turning the room's attention to him for a potential solution.
"We could assign him a mentor. The rules explicitly state that if the staff agrees to adjust the tasks accordingly, champions who request mentors can select one." Ludo Bagman proposed.
"If he gets a mentor, then all our champions should have one!" Karkaroff objected, eyeing the 14-year-old boy suspiciously.
"Why should he receive an unfair advantage?" He added.
"Albus, Athena, would you like your champions to have mentors as well?" Barty Crouch asked, cautiously hopeful about their proposed solution.
Athena exchanged a contemplative look with Albus, who wore a small, pleading smile, silently urging her to agree. Athena took a deep breath, the weight of her decision heavy on her shoulders. Her thoughts were interrupted by Sarah.
"This mentor...can it be anyone?" Sarah inquired suddenly, capturing the room's attention.
"Yes, Ms. Lincolns. Anyone of age whom you deem capable of guiding you through the challenges." Ludo Bagman responded, though he appeared somewhat puzzled by her line of questioning.
"Anyone?" Sarah persisted. Ludo Bagman nodded politely, uncertain about her intentions.
"Sarah, no!" Athena hissed, having discerned Sarah's implication.
"Why not?" Sarah retorted, defiantly challenging her great-aunt.
"Sarah, please consider this rationally." Athena implored, her irritation evident as she rubbed her eyes wearily.
"You're the one being irrational about this, Aunt Athena!" Sarah retorted sharply, her resolve unwavering.
Athena withdrew in surprise, her gaze sternly fixed on Sarah. Sarah's determination flared as she turned her gaze toward Barty Crouch and Ludo Bagman.
"I would like a mentor." Sarah declared confidently.
"Well, then...Mr. Shorthorn, I suppose the choice is yours..." Barty Crouch said, casting a somber glance at Zeus.
Zeus met the eyes of his head of house, and after a brief exchange of unspoken understanding, the man sighed deeply but offered a subtle nod of agreement.
"Yes, sir, I would also like a mentor." Zeus Shorthorn responded politely.
With a sense of finality, Barty Crouch declared.
"It's settled then. The Triwizard Tournament will include mentors. Champions, you have two weeks to bring your mentors to Hogwarts and prepare them. Following that, we will proceed with the formalities of the tournament, such as press interviews and the wand-weighing ceremony."
Athena attempted to impart some rationality to her great-niece regarding the selection of an appropriate mentor. It was crucial for Sarah to choose someone dependable, someone who would consistently support her. However, the person Sarah had in mind was about as accessible as rain in a desert. Sarah's proposed mentor was always on the move, constantly traveling through America for work. She rarely had time to return home; in fact, she hadn't even seen her beloved brother in months. What could possibly make Sarah think that she would drop everything to become her mentor?
Despite Athena's earnest words, they seemed to fall on deaf ears. It was evident that reinforcements were needed.
Michelin arrived through the Floo network, dressed in his formal wizengamot robes, looking like he had rushed straight there from a case.
"Aunt Athena, I came as soon as I received your owl!" Michelin greeted.
"Michelin, you must help me reason with your daughter. She's insisting that your sister becomes her mentor, but you know how unreliable she can be. Sarah has very little time left to secure a mentor, and that's only after extensive persuasion and pleading. Where are we even supposed to locate her? What if she's gone off the grid again? To the best of my knowledge, she probably has, considering Sarah sent her that letter the same night her name came out of the Goblet of Fire. It's been over a month now, and we've managed to secure all the extensions we could. All the other champions have mentors already in place. Barty Crouch has been issuing threats, hinting at revoking Sarah's right to a mentor if we don't find one urgently. And still, there's been no response; we don't even know if she received the letter." Athena lamented, her pacing echoing in the office.
Michelin stood in silence, attentively listening to his aunt, who continued to vent her frustrations about his sister, rather than addressing the issue his daughter had caused.
"But this isn't her fault, you know; it's Sarah's!" He said, shaking his head and sighing, realizing he needed to find a solution quickly.
"Here you go, defending her again..."
"No, Aunt Athena! You've always been partial to Sarah, and so have my mother, my father, Zenia, and I. We've all coddled Sarah throughout her life, always rushing to her aid. She's come to expect it every time. It's high time she took responsibility for herself; she's of age, for Merlin's sake!"
"You can't possibly be suggesting that we not help her find a mentor, Michelin!" Athena exclaimed in horror.
"No, of course not. I'm just trying to say that Sarah isn't as angelic as you believe. I warned you about her, Aunt Athena..." Michelin said, attempting to calm his rising temper.
Someone entered the empty room as Michelin raised his head. His eyes shifted from Athena to the woman who had just stepped inside. There was no doubt in his mind that this woman was his other aunt, his mother's youngest sister. He stood out of respect and perhaps a hint of excitement at meeting her for the first time in his life. He oddly recalled her face in bits and pieces from his childhood, and he seemed to remember her smile, but he hardly had any clear memories of her. After he turned eight or nine, she had never visited them in Boston.
"Michelin, this is my sister, your aunt..." Athena introduced.
"Minerva...I know. It's so nice to finally meet you!" He greeted her with a beaming smile.
"You as well, Michelin." Minerva replied, trying her best to maintain a smile.
Michelin touched the right side of his face unconsciously but quickly brushed off the feeling. That was generally how people reacted the first time they met him. He wasn't ashamed of it anymore; in fact, he called it his "brotherly mark." Not many people knew why, but they were too awkward to ask. It wasn't a mark, though. It was the result of a dark spell that hadn't been intended for him. It had almost taken his sister away from him, along with half of the flesh from his once-handsome face. It had taken months in the hospital to get it to look like this. It still looked mangled, but it was what it was. His wife didn't mind, so it didn't bother him.
Michelin shook off the feeling as Minerva looked apologetically at him.
"It's nothing; it doesn't bother me." He said, laughing it off.
His cheerful mood, however, was short-lived, as his daughter entered the room.
"Hey, Dad..." She said sheepishly.
"Sarah, do you have any idea what you've done?!" Michelin's tone immediately shifted to a stern one.
Sarah didn't say a word. She bit the inside of her cheek, unable to admit that this was a mistake made in a moment of stupidity, an attempt to prove her bravery to a complete fool. She didn't want her father to think less of her. However, it seemed like he didn't need clarification to form that opinion.
Sarah shrugged, which only further infuriated her father.
"Is that all you have to say? A shrug? Really, Sarah? You're seventeen years old; isn't it high time you started behaving like an adult?" He scolded her harshly.
"Exactly; I am an adult, capable of making my own decisions!"
"And yet, here I am, cleaning up the mess you've made!" Michelin mockingly retorted.
Sarah looked away, anger brewing inside her.
"I didn't ask for you to be here!"
"And you think she will magically appear upon your request?" Michelin snapped at his daughter.
"She should! I think she owes me that much!" Sarah snapped back at her father, further infuriating him.
"You are one spoiled brat! Do you really believe that people will just abandon their lives to come help you? Sarah! I didn't raise you to be selfish!"
"You and Mom do it every time she needs anything!" Sarah muttered angrily under her breath.
"And so does she when we ask, but those situations were never created out of stupidity! And that doesn't mean you think she is your personal secretary. Do you know how busy she is?"
Sarah rolled her eyes at her father.
"I am aware of how busy she is. Did you know they call her the American Dumbledore here? It's ridiculous!" Sarah scoffed at the title.
"If you spoke to her, she'd understand, and she'd come without complaint. It's you who has a problem!" Sarah said, pouting.
"And how exactly am I going to do that, Sarah? I don't know where she is..." Her father replied, sighing tiredly.
"I figured it out, and I did half the work for you. Tessra Jones...I already wrote her a letter." Sarah said, carefully broaching the subject. Her father scoffed.
"What—are you—do you hear yourself, Sarah? You think the most powerful magical being in America, and possibly the world, is sitting idly by to make time for you?"
"She said she'd make time for any AIMS student who required the Coven's help!"
"When?!"
"On our fifth-year visit!"
"Sarah, that's just something they say. Tessra Jones isn't going to involve herself in these affairs!"
"Then why has she agreed to visit me soon? And...in the letter that she wrote back, she said she'd bring her here too!" Sarah argued.
Michelin frowned.
"Did you tell her who you were?" He asked, quickly catching on to her scheme.
"I may have mentioned it..." Sarah replied sheepishly.
"Sarah! You know how dangerous that is, for her and for you. What if that letter fell into the wrong hands?" Michelin snapped.
"I had...I had no other solution. I know she has enemies, but I need her. She's the only one who can get me out of this safely, the only one I can trust to stay by my side. You know this too, Dad!"
"Besides, if you can't help me, then don't stop me from getting the help I need..." Sarah snapped but then cut herself short and looked down at the crest on her jacket.
Michelin and Athena exchanged looks. Sarah's blazer crest had changed from the AIMS symbol to the crest of the 27 Coven. It was a magical feature woven into their uniforms to ensure that students recognized the presence of a coven member among them and behaved accordingly, offering a hand over their crests and a small bow.
"She's here!" Sarah almost yelled at the top of her voice.
"I'm sorry...who's here?" Minerva finally asked as she entered the convoluted discussion.
"TESSRA JONES!" Sarah yelled, beaming. She threw a pleading look at her father.
"Dad? Please...please help me speak to her. I've never spoken to someone like her before, and I don't want to mess this up more!" Sarah said desperately, her nerves on edge at the thought of encountering such a significant authority figure.
"Fine." Michelin said, finally giving in.
"Let's go...meet Tessra Jones, I suppose." Athena said, exasperatedly leading the family to the Great Hall.
Tessra had never been inclined to heed the so-called "urgent" pleas of children. However, this particular letter had managed to evoke her sympathy. Moreover, she found the peculiar circumstances surrounding it rather intriguing.
The letter itself was straightforward. It came from a certain Ms. Sarah Lincolns, the AIMS Tri-wizard tournament champion, who was earnestly seeking assistance from the 27 Coven. Sarah also made it known that she was the niece of one of the coven's members and politely requested Tessra's consent to allow her aunt to serve as her mentor. Tessra scoffed to herself. Hmph! As if this girl's aunt needed her permission. Had she not been preoccupied with her mission down south, she would have swiftly intervened, abandoning her prior obligations, and informed Tessra about her involvement much later.
While Tessra had traveled extensively, Hogwarts had remained uncharted territory for her. Her familiarity with the renowned Albus Dumbledore, particularly after his pivotal role in the Grindelwald uprising in America, made her somewhat comfortable with her visit. She had encountered him at various International Magical Confederation conferences as well, engaging in pleasant conversations on those occasions.
Navigating the entrance hall, Tessra observed a group of AIMS students lingering about. They immediately paid their respects, bowing respectfully as their crests underwent a subtle transformation. These students took it upon themselves to guide her to the great hall, where both students and staff were enjoying their midday meals.
The presence of Tessra did not go unnoticed among the AIMS students, who promptly abandoned their meals to greet her with the requisite formality. This display of reverence bewildered students from other schools, arousing the curiosity of Albus Dumbledore and a gentleman with a mustache, both of whom hastened toward Tessra.
"Lady Jones...?" Stammered the mustached gentleman, profoundly astonished, as Tessra acknowledged him and then turned her gaze to Dumbledore.
"Albus...it is indeed a pleasure to see you after all these years." Tessra remarked, her smile exuding politeness. Dumbledore responded with a small bow of his head.
"I am Bartimus Crouch, Lady Jones. I serve as the head of the International Magical Corporation at the Ministry of Magic. Lady Jones, may I inquire as to the purpose of your...uh...surprise visit?" The mustached gentleman's tone bore traces of unease, but he tipped his bowler hat in a show of respect.
"One of the AIMS students sent a letter, urgently requesting my aid. When an AIMS student is in need, that's precisely where I'll be." Tessra replied, her gaze shifting to him as she extended her hand for a handshake.
"Lady Jones..."
Tessra turned to respond to the address, as a man accompanied by his daughter and Headmistress McGonagall entered the hall. Both the young girl and the headmistress adhered to the formal greetings that Tessra's presence required.
"You must be the niece...?" Tessra inquired with a warm smile, prompting a nod from Sarah, who rose from her respectful bow, appearing somewhat like a startled deer.
"It is good to see you again, Mr. Lincolns." Tessra remarked kindly, extending her hand towards him. Michelin responded by bowing and delicately kissing her ring-adorned fingers.
"The honor is mine, Lady Jones." Michelin replied, his tone conveying genuine reverence.
"You're...you're her father?" Mr. Crouch inquired, evidently taken aback.
"Yes, sir..." Michelin affirmed, his gaze now resting on the mustached man.
"Are you the Chief Attorney General for MACUSA, Michelin Lincolns?" Mr. Crouch asked in surprise.
"That's correct." Michelin confirmed, somewhat unaccustomed to being recognized beyond bureaucratic circles.
"I remember your closing argument from the lawsuit at the International Magical Confederation, the case of MACUSA vs. The Anti-Muggle League! It was a landmark judgment. I am Bartimus Crouch, head of the International Magical Corporation department at the Ministry in London." Mr. Crouch introduced himself, extending his hand for a handshake. Michelin offered a graceful nod and accepted the handshake.
"Now that we are all properly acquainted, shall we proceed with our discussion?" Athena suggested, signaling the need to address the matter at hand.
"Of course..." Tessra agreed, directing her gaze toward Sarah, who appeared once more uncertain about what to say.
"I investigated your request, Ms. Lincolns, and I regret to inform you that your chosen mentor is presently engaged in other endeavors. I have dispatched a scout to deliver your message with the utmost urgency, and we anticipate receiving a response imminently." Tessra conveyed gently.
"Oh..." Sarah responded dejectedly.
"Nevertheless, I can assign another member as..."
"No, thank you!" Sarah interjected, shaking her head firmly.
"Sarah!" Michelin admonished.
"No...Lady Jones...I'm sorry...I can't accept that...I need her!" Sarah nearly stammered in panic.
Tessra frowned at her hesitance.
"I understand your sentiments, given that she is your aunt. However, each member of the 27 possesses equal expertise." Tessra remarked pointedly.
"I am sure that's true, Lady Jones. I apologize for my daughter's outburst. I will speak with her to reconsider..."
"No, Dad! If it's not her, then I'd rather have no mentor at all!" Sarah asserted adamantly, causing Michelin to regard her with disbelief.
"Ms. Lincolns, have you lost your mind? You reached out to the leader of the 27 Coven for assistance, and now that she's here, you are declining her?" Mr. Crouch chided Sarah incredulously. In response, Sarah shot him a glare that could curdle milk.
"Sarah, you are being incredibly stubborn. We are attempting to help you!" Athena snapped, making yet another effort to instill some reason in her great-niece.
"Ms. Lincolns…perhaps you should pay heed to what they are saying." Dumbledore tried to offer some advice.
"This isn't the help I had in mind! You're the leader of the 27, and you can't even secure the member I need to assist me. Who's to say that the individual you are proposing as my mentor instead would be reliable enough?" Sarah retorted obstinately.
The audacity of Sarah's words left all the adults in a state of shock. Even the bravest of souls would quiver under Tessra's gentlest looks, yet here was a 17-year-old, defiantly challenging the adults and displaying a level of bravado that most would describe as utterly and hopelessly foolish.
"SARAH! Be mindful of your words!" Michelin exclaimed loudly, causing the entire hall to suddenly eavesdrop on their conversation.
"Remember the respect you owe, to the coven!" He added.
"Lady Jones...I apologise for her outspoken nature...I..." Michelin began apologetically. Tessra raised her hand, cutting him off.
Sarah met her father's angry gaze and then turned her attention back to Tessra, who appeared to be scrutinizing her closely, an intrigued smirk dancing on her lips. Tessra used her finger to tilt Sarah's chin upward, fixing her gaze into Sarah's eyes. Sarah met Tessra's stare, fear initially evident but slowly transforming into a smile as they shared an unspoken conversation, a connection that would forever remain shrouded in mystery.
"How much time can you afford us, Mr. Crouch? I understand that we are severely delayed already, but these circumstances are unique..." Tessra inquired, still maintaining her unbroken gaze with Sarah.
Barty Crouch, who had been vexing Sarah and Athena with threats of revoking AIMS' mentorship, now found himself in a quandary. He could not employ the same tactics against the esteemed Tessra Jones.
"Umm...I can...extend it by a couple of days..."
"I need an exact timeframe, please."
"A week...should not pose a problem...right, Barty? We are still finalizing the tournament tasks." Dumbledore interjected, glancing at Crouch, who responded with a frown.
"I will require just two days." Tessra declared, her unwavering gaze still locked onto Sarah's eyes, as if to say she accepted her challenge!
"Are you certain? You have been unable to locate her mentor for an entire month. I am beginning to suspect that this...individual, whoever she may be, is not interested..." Mr. Crouch expressed his doubts.
"Two days, Mr. Crouch. I apologize for the delay on my member's part, but I assure you, she will not disregard my summons. She does not have that liberty." Tessra replied, her tone still courteous yet firm, as she finally stepped away from Sarah and turned her attention back to Mr. Crouch, who conceded defeat with a nod.
"Ms. Lincolns, you should appreciate that your aunt shares your stubbornness. While it is oddly endearing to me, you should consider yourself fortunate that you have managed to trap her in this predicament with you." Tessra remarked with a smirk.
"She wouldn't be here any other way...I tried..." Sarah replied.
"Well, then...you're lucky that the 27 Coven are currently at your disposal...to bring her here."
"She's humbled...my lady...I assure you...the entire Lincolns family is." Michelin cut in, before his daughter could say anything stupid.
"She should be. Arrogance doesn't befit you, Ms. Lincolns. Your aunt, on the other hand, works tirelessly to earn such a privilege." Tessra retorted, her eyes fixed on Sarah, who lowered her gaze, a tinge of shame creeping over her.
"I will secure your mentor for you, Ms. Lincolns. You need not worry." Tessra assured her.
"Now, Albus, may I trouble you for the use of a spare office for the next two days?" Tessra requested, turning to Dumbledore, who readily consented.
"Thank you." Tessra acknowledged with politeness.
Subsequently, Dumbledore escorted Tessra to the spare office she had requested.
"Who in the world is your aunt?" Mr. Crouch muttered with a tinge of frustration.
"Oh, you'll soon find out..." Sarah replied with a smug smile.
With that, she turned her back on them and proceeded to the Gryffindor table to enjoy her lunch. A victorious grin adorned her face. She had no idea how she had achieved this outcome, but, for once in her life, she felt content. She had heeded the advice her aunt had always imparted to her.
"Be more assertive, Sarah, or people will trample all over you like a doormat!"
Sarah Lincolns had decided that she was done being a doormat.
AN/- Do leave a review, a lot is left to be revealed