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31st of October 1994, Ravenclaw Common Room
Adrian woke up to the soft rustling of parchment and the faint murmur of students starting their day. Sunlight filtered through the tall windows of the Ravenclaw Tower, casting a golden glow across the common room. He was still on one of the couches, his limbs draped lazily over the armrest, the embers of last night's fire barely flickering in the hearth.
The events of the previous night settled into his mind as he stretched, rolling his shoulders. The whispers, the betrayal, the rage—none of it seemed to have the same hold over him anymore. Maybe it was Daphne's words, maybe it was the Noxleaf still lingering slightly in his system, but either way, he felt... lighter.
Not that he had forgiven them. No, he wasn't ready for that.
His thoughts drifted back to the Goblet of Fire. By now, his name was already inside, sealed in blue flames. No one had a clue. Not yet.
A smirk curled on his lips.
Oh, they're going to lose their fucking minds tonight.
Adrian pushed himself up and ran a hand through his messy black hair, shaking off the last remnants of sleep. A few second-years scurried past him, giving him wary glances before hurrying up the stairs to their dormitories. Even in the supposed safety of their own house, the whispers were relentless.
He exhaled through his nose, suppressing the urge to roll his eyes.
Fucking cowards.
Then, just as he was about to head upstairs to grab a fresh set of robes, he heard movement. He turned his head—Jess.
She stood near the staircase leading to the girls' dormitories, her posture uncertain, like she wasn't sure whether to approach or not. But Adrian could already see the guilt in her blue eyes.
"Adrian," she started hesitantly.
He met her gaze, but there was no warmth in it. No anger either—just indifference.
"You made your choice last night," he said simply, stepping past her.
Jess flinched. "I—I didn't know what to think. I—"
She trailed off, her voice small, uncertain. For the first time, Jess didn't look like the confident, unwavering girl he had befriended. She just looked lost.
Then, barely above a whisper, she muttered, "I'm sorry."
Adrian paused mid-step.
For a fleeting moment, something tugged at his chest—something bitter, something nostalgic. It would have been so easy to stop, to turn back, to let her explain, to let himself believe that things could go back to how they were.
But he knew better.
He shook his head and kept walking.
Jess said nothing else.
The moment Adrian stepped into the Great Hall, he felt it.
The shift in the air. The weight of eyes on him.
The whispers followed him like a phantom, curling through the air like smoke.
"That's him…"
"The Durmstrang reject."
"He got expelled for dark magic, you know…"
"What did he do? They won't even say…"
"Bets he's a fucking maniac"
Adrian sighed through his nose and kept walking, ignoring the hushed voices. He had expected this. It didn't bother him the way it would have a few days ago.
No, this time, it was almost amusing.
They thought they had the full story. They thought they knew him. But they had no fucking clue.
Terry and Padma were already seated at the Ravenclaw table—far away from his usual spot. They didn't even glance his way.
Jess hesitated near their usual seats, eyes darting toward him, but she didn't move to sit with him this time.
Good.
Adrian grabbed a plate and sat down near the end of the table, as far from them as possible. He wasn't in the mood for small talk.
As he reached for some toast, someone sat down beside him.
Daphne Greengrass.
"Morning, Valor," she greeted smoothly, stealing a piece of bacon off his plate before he could react.
Adrian snorted. "You do know this is the Ravenclaw table, right?"
Daphne smirked, nibbling on the stolen bacon like it was hers all along. "And?"
Adrian shook his head in amusement. "You really don't care about social conventions, do you?"
"I prefer to call it efficiency," she said with a smirk. "You're interesting, I'm hungry, and Slytherin's table is too loud in the mornings. Simple logic."
Adrian rolled his eyes but said nothing, taking a bite of his toast. The stares around them had doubled now.
Oh, this is just adding fuel to the fire.
Then, just as Adrian was finishing his meal, Daphne nudged him with her elbow.
"Hey," she said casually, "Wanna go out for a bit?"
Adrian quirked a brow. "Out where?"
"Somewhere that isn't filled with morons whispering about you."
That was… fair.
Adrian glanced toward Terry and Padma, who were talking in hushed voices with the other Ravenclaws—probably about him. Jess was staring at her plate, unmoving.
Yeah. He needed to get out of here.
He downed the last of his pumpkin juice, grabbed his bag, and stood up.
"Sure," he said.
Without another word, they walked out of the Great Hall together.
More whispers followed.
But he didn't care.
The crisp autumn air was a welcome change from the suffocating atmosphere inside the castle. The Black Lake stretched out before them, the water calm and glass-like beneath the overcast sky. A few students were scattered across the grounds, but no one was paying them any attention.
Perfect.
Daphne pulled out another roll of Noxleaf, lighting it effortlessly with a flick of her wand. She took a slow drag, exhaling a swirl of smoke into the cool air before handing it to Adrian.
"Figured you could use some more 'relaxation' after last night," she teased.
Adrian chuckled, accepting the roll. "You're a terrible influence."
"And you love it," she shot back with a smirk.
He took a hit, the familiar warmth spreading through his limbs, sharpening his senses just slightly. The tension in his shoulders melted away.
For a moment, everything was quiet.
Then—
"Well, well, well. Isn't this a sight?"
Adrian's muscles tensed.
Daphne sighed, exhaling a puff of smoke before turning around lazily. "Oh, fantastic."
Draco Malfoy stood a few feet away, arms crossed, his ever-present cronies—Crabbe, Goyle, and a couple of other Slytherins—flanking him like a personal entourage.
Pansy Parkinson was there too, sneering.
Adrian took another drag before exhaling slowly. "Fuck off, Malfoy."
Malfoy smirked, stepping closer. "Tsk, tsk. Such language. You'd think a fallen noble would have better manners." His cold grey eyes flickered toward Daphne. "And you, Daphne? Stooping so low? Hanging around half-blood traitors now?"
Daphne's jaw tightened, but her expression remained cool. "And what's it to you?"
Malfoy's smirk widened. "Oh, nothing. Just thinking about how… unfortunate it would be if certain prospective engagements were to fall through."
Daphne's eyes darkened. "Is that a threat, Draco?"
Malfoy feigned innocence. "I'm merely pointing out—"
Adrian stood up, rolling his shoulders.
"Did you not hear what I said Malfoy? Fuck the fuck off before I do something both of us will regret."
Malfoy's smirk didn't falter, but there was a flash of irritation in his pale grey eyes. He tilted his head ever so slightly, as if assessing Adrian like a particularly annoying insect buzzing around his head.
"I'm sorry, were you under the impression that I was talking to you, Valor?" Malfoy sneered, his voice dripping with condescension. "Because I wasn't."
His gaze flicked back to Daphne, his expression hardening. "Come back to the common room. Now."
Daphne exhaled, tapping the Noxleaf between her fingers as she looked at him like he was a particularly boring lecture she had to sit through. "No."
Malfoy's eyes narrowed. "I wasn't asking." His voice dropped, a sharp edge cutting through the false politeness. "Come. Now."
Adrian scoffed, stepping forward just enough to shift slightly in front of Daphne. "Merlin, Malfoy, you sound like a fucking bad romance novel villain. Maybe throw in a 'you belong to me' for dramatic effect."
Crabbe and Goyle tensed at the insult, but Malfoy merely clenched his jaw. He wasn't laughing anymore.
Daphne, to her credit, didn't look intimidated. She just arched a brow. "Are you seriously trying to order me around?"
"It's not ordering, Daphne," Pansy cut in with an exaggerated sigh, rolling her eyes. "It's common sense. Do you have any idea how lucky you are that Draco is even considering you? You should be grateful to be betrothed to someone like him."
Adrian let out a sharp bark of laughter. "Wow. That's got to be the most depressing sentence I've heard all week."
Malfoy's glare snapped back to him, his mouth curling into something unpleasant. "You've got some nerve, Valor. I know your type. You think just because you have a little talent, you can pretend to be something you're not. But you're still a half-blood. You'll always be beneath us."
Adrian tilted his head, pretending to think about it. "Right, right. And remind me again—who was the one who ran off with his tail between his legs every time we have talked?"
Crabbe and Goyle bristled at that. Malfoy's face twitched.
"I'd be careful what you say, Valor," Malfoy warned, his voice low and threatening.
Adrian smirked. "Or what? You gonna whine to your daddy again?"
Malfoy's face darkened, but before he could snap back, a sudden flash of red shot toward Adrian.
"Stupefy!"
It was instinct. His wand was in his hand before he even realized it, moving on its own. The shield came up like a wall of raw energy, blocking the Stunning Spell effortlessly. The force of it rebounded, sending a gust of wind back toward the Slytherins.
Adrian turned his storm-grey eyes to Pansy, his expression unreadable.
"Who the fuck do you think you are?" he asked, his voice eerily calm.
Pansy huffed, folding her arms. "I was doing Daphne a favour," she said, her tone sickeningly sweet. "Clearly, she's too polite to get rid of unwanted pests herself."
Adrian let out a slow breath, gripping his wand just a little tighter. He had been in plenty of fights before, but this? This was testing his patience in an entirely different way.
Then, he noticed it.
Daphne.
She wasn't saying anything.
And for the first time, Adrian caught something in her eyes—something subtle, something barely noticeable, but there.
Fear.
That sent a pulse of fury straight through his veins.
He turned back to Malfoy, his smirk gone, his voice low and lethal.
"I'm going to give you one last chance," he said, every word razor-sharp. "Take your lackeys and fuck off."
Malfoy's lips curled into a slow, malicious smirk. "Oh, Valor," he murmured, pulling his wand from his robes. "Perhaps you need to be reminded of your place."
He tilted his head slightly.
Crabbe and Goyle stepped forward.
Adrian exhaled slowly, his magic humming beneath his skin, his grip on his wand tightening.
"Oh, I dare you," he muttered.
Malfoy's smirk widened.
"Boys," he drawled, amusement flickering in his cold grey eyes. "I think it's time we teach our dear friend Adrian a lesson."
For a moment, there was only silence.
Then—
"Expelliarmus!"
Crabbe moved first, his wand flashing as the spell shot toward Adrian.
Adrian barely needed to think. His wand snapped up, a quick flick conjuring a shimmering Protego. The spell ricocheted harmlessly, fizzling into the grass.
And then—
Everything exploded into motion.
A barrage of spells lit up the clearing as Malfoy's gang attacked all at once. Stunners, Disarming Charms, Blasting Hexes—magic whipped through the air in rapid bursts of light, forcing Adrian to move fast.
He sidestepped, letting a Stunning Spell sail past his shoulder, then ducked as another crackled over his head. A third was already incoming, but he twisted sharply, rolling away just in time.
A sneer pulled at his lips.
They were sloppy. Predictable.
"Are you fuckers actually trying?" Adrian called, flicking his wand to send a gust of wind that threw Goyle off balance. "Because this is embarrassing."
Goyle staggered, but Pansy snarled—
"Silencio!"
Adrian had to throw himself back to avoid it.
Clever.
If that had landed, he wouldn't be able to cast anything back verbally.
But Adrian wasn't about to let Pansy Fucking Parkinson be the one to land the first hit.
His wand whipped forward—
"Oppugno!"
Pansy's eyes widened as the very branches of a nearby tree lurched to life, twisting toward her with dangerous speed.
She yelped, barely managing to dispel the spell before they clawed at her robes.
"Are you insane?!" Pansy shrieked.
Adrian grinned wickedly. "No, but thanks for asking."
A streak of red shot toward Daphne—
No.
Adrian swung around instantly, his wand slicing through the air.
"Protego!"
The shield flared to life, absorbing the impact just before it hit her.
Daphne's breath hitched. She turned to him, blue eyes wide.
Adrian didn't look away.
"If you're going to try and hex her," he said darkly, his voice low and venomous, "you better beat my ass first."
Malfoy's grin faltered for half a second.
But then, his anger returned full force.
"Crabbe! Goyle! Stop playing around and take him down!"
The two massive idiots charged forward, wands raised.
Adrian rolled his eyes.
"Honestly," he muttered, "do you two ever do anything on your own?"
Goyle roared, firing off Petrificus Totalus—
Adrian sidestepped effortlessly, then snapped his wand toward him.
"Levicorpus!"
Goyle was yanked off his feet, suspended midair by his ankle. His arms flailed wildly, his wand clattering to the ground.
Crabbe, seeing his friend helpless, lunged forward.
Adrian let him come.
Then?
He punched him straight in the face.
Crabbe stumbled back, clutching his nose as a sickening crunch echoed through the clearing.
Daphne gasped. "Did you just—?"
"What? It worked," Adrian muttered, shaking out his aching fist.
But before he could enjoy the moment—
A spell whipped toward him from behind.
Too fast to block.
Shit—
He twisted just in time, but the hex still clipped his shoulder, sending a sharp jolt of pain through his arm.
Adrian hissed, snapping his wand toward the culprit.
"Petrificus Totalus!"
Pansy froze, body snapping stiff as a board before she toppled backward like a fallen statue.
Daphne snorted. "Merlin, that's satisfying."
Adrian smirked. "You're welcome."
Then, just like that—
Only Malfoy was left standing.
The Slytherin glared, his breathing ragged, his wand gripped tight.
"You still think blood makes you better, Malfoy?" Adrian asked, shaking his head. "Pathetic. Blood doesn't give you power. Only magic does."
His storm-grey eyes locked onto Malfoy's pale, furious gaze.
"For magic is might."
Malfoy stiffened.
Something in those words got to him—because he snapped.
"Diffindo!"
The spell slashed through the air, too fast to dodge.
Adrian felt white-hot pain as his robe tore open, a deep gash splitting across his arm.
A searing burn tore through his skin, blood staining his sleeve instantly.
Adrian staggered back, gritting his teeth—
The pain was drowned out by pure, unfiltered rage.
His magic flared violently, crackling through his fingertips—
And then, with a flick of his wand, he fucking launched Malfoy.
"Flipendo!"
Malfoy was blasted backward like a ragdoll, his body slamming into the grass with a choked gasp of pain.
He didn't get back up.
Silence.
Daphne was at his side immediately, fingers gripping his uninjured arm tightly.
"Adrian—shit—you're bleeding," she whispered, her voice tight with worry.
Adrian hissed, looking down at the deep crimson staining his robes.
"Yeah," he muttered. "Noticed that."
Daphne's fingers tightened. "We need to go. Now."
Adrian turned.
Crabbe and Goyle were groaning, shifting, trying to get back up.
They didn't have much time.
"Alright," Adrian exhaled.
Without another word, he grabbed Daphne's wrist—
And they ran.
Their footsteps pounded against the grass, breath heavy, the cold biting at Adrian's wound as they rushed toward the castle.
Daphne kept glancing at him, worry etched across her features, but Adrian barely noticed.
His mind was still burning with adrenaline.
He had won.
And by tonight?
Everyone would know exactly who the fuck Adrian Valor was.
They walked through the corridors of Hogwarts, the echoes of their hurried footsteps bouncing off the cold stone walls. The adrenaline from the fight still pulsed through Adrian's veins, but the sharp sting in his arm was making itself more and more known. Blood still seeped through the torn fabric of his robes, and the longer they walked, the more people started to notice.
Whispers followed them down the hall.
"Did you see them?"
"Merlin, look at Valor's arm…"
"Is that blood? What the hell happened?"
A couple of Ravenclaws stared openly as they passed, their expressions a mix of curiosity and wariness. A group of Hufflepuffs in the distance quickly hushed their conversation, eyes flicking between Adrian and Daphne before hurriedly stepping out of their way. Even some Slytherins sent them odd glances, but none of them dared approach.
Daphne huffed. "Great. We look like a walking scandal."
Adrian let out a dry chuckle. "Yeah, well, it's not like I had much of a reputation to protect in the first place."
She rolled her eyes but didn't argue. Instead, she grabbed his good arm and pulled him into the nearest empty classroom.
The door shut behind them with a soft click, and Daphne exhaled, running a hand through her hair. "Alright, take a seat."
Adrian eyed her. "Ordering me around already?"
Daphne shot him a pointed look. "You're bleeding all over the place. So yes, sit your ass down."
Adrian smirked but complied, perching himself on the edge of a desk. The dim torchlight flickered against the old wooden desks, casting long shadows across the room. The silence between them was thick, filled with the weight of what had just happened.
Daphne crossed her arms. "You need to go to the hospital wing."
"Not happening."
She groaned. "Why not? Madam Pomfrey can fix this in seconds!"
"Exactly," Adrian said, shaking his head. "She'd fix it and ask questions. I don't feel like dealing with that."
Daphne pinched the bridge of her nose. "Unbelievable." She glanced at his arm, then sighed. "Fine. But don't blame me if my spellwork isn't great—I'm not exactly a healer."
Adrian smirked. "I'll take my chances."
Daphne pulled out her wand and stepped closer, examining the wound. The cut was deep, but not impossible to mend. She pointed her wand carefully, murmuring, "Vulnera Sanentur."
A warm, tingling sensation spread through Adrian's arm as the wound began to close, though the process was slow. Too slow. Daphne's brows furrowed in concentration, her lower lip caught between her teeth as she worked.
"That spell any good?" Adrian asked, watching her.
"It's better than bleeding out on the floor, isn't it?"
"Fair point."
Daphne didn't stop, her focus unwavering. Adrian found himself watching her—not just the way she handled her wand with precise movements, but the way her eyes softened, the way she chewed on her lip when she concentrated. It was… oddly fascinating.
After a few moments, Daphne exhaled and pulled back. "Alright, that should hold. Just… don't do anything stupid with that arm for the next few hours. The spell needs time to fully set."
Adrian flexed his fingers experimentally. The pain was duller now, but still present. "Not bad, Greengrass."
Daphne smirked. "Don't sound so surprised."
Then, as if the weight of the fight finally hit her, she muttered, "Fuck. They're definitely going to go tell Snape. We're going to be in so much trouble."
Adrian, however, just leaned back against the desk, looking entirely too relaxed for someone who just brawled with half of Slytherin.
"I don't think so."
Daphne narrowed her eyes. "And why not?"
Adrian smirked. "Because that would be admitting defeat. And Malfoy and his goons have way too much ego for that. I'd bet Galleons they'll pretend this never happened rather than go whining to Snape."
Daphne stared at him, considering. "...You might actually have a point."
Adrian shrugged. "And even if they did tell him, you're a Slytherin. A good student. I imagine Snape values your word more than Malfoy's. If it came down to it, you could just tell him Malfoy started it."
Daphne scoffed. "You sound awfully confident about that."
Adrian's smirk faltered for a second, his gaze darkening slightly. "Let's just say… I've been in this position before. Except last time, I got hit with Cruciatus and lost."
Daphne's lips parted slightly, but she didn't speak.
Adrian exhaled. "But this time?" He looked at her, a slow, sharp grin creeping onto his face. "We wiped the floor with them."
Daphne let out a small chuckle, shaking her head. "That we did."
A beat of silence passed between them, and it was only then that Adrian realized something.
His hand was still holding Daphne's.
The moment stretched for just a second too long before they both pulled away at the same time.
Daphne cleared her throat, brushing non-existent dust off her robes. "Right. I should go."
Adrian nodded, standing up as well. "Yeah."
Daphne hesitated at the door, then glanced back at him. "Thanks. For what you did back there. If you hadn't been there, that could have gone really bad for me."
Adrian gave her a lopsided smirk. "No problem. We're friends, right?"
Daphne paused, then smiled—slow, knowing. "Careful, Valor. I'll hold you to that."
And with that, she was gone.
Adrian stood there for a few seconds longer, rolling his now-healed shoulder, before letting out a breath.
Well.
That was… something.
He went back to the Ravenclaw common room and got dressed into a fresh set of robes ignoring the whispers that were surrounding him.
Cowards.
After that he decided to go and spend the rest of his afternoon untill he had to go to the Halloween feast and the champion selection in a place he knew that would be relatively empty of people staring at him and talking behind his back. The library.
Adrian settled into the farthest corner of the library, away from the main tables where students clustered together in hushed conversations. The thick scent of old parchment and ink filled the air, offering a familiar sort of comfort. He let out a slow breath, running a hand through his hair as he set a book in front of him—some ancient text on advanced spellwork he had no real intention of reading. The cut on his arm still stung, but thanks to Daphne's spellwork, it wasn't nearly as bad as before. He flexed his fingers, testing the stiffness, then pulled his sleeve down. Good enough.
His eyes scanned the page, but the words didn't register. His thoughts kept drifting.
Daphne.
He hadn't really thought about what her reaction would be when his name came out of the Goblet of Fire. Would she be surprised? Angry? Disappointed?
Would she think he was reckless?
Would she think he was dangerous?
Adrian frowned, his fingers tapping idly against the desk. Should he say something to her beforehand? Give her some kind of warning?
No.
No, that wasn't necessary. If she turned against him because of this, then she was never worth his time to begin with. She was nice, sure. Sharp-tongued and wickedly intelligent, too. And yeah, she was beautiful—anyone with eyes could see that.
But if one name from the Goblet was enough to make her doubt him, then she wasn't someone he needed in his corner.
Besides, he wasn't even sure how he was supposed to act when his name was called.
That thought gnawed at him the most.
How should he handle this?
His fingers drummed against the wood of the table as he ran through the possibilities.
Should he tell them about Moody? About how he got his name in?
No too risky. He still didn't know what Moody's intention was with putting Harry's name into the goblet. For all he knew Moody was trying to hurt or even kill Harry although that was a bit of a stretch.
So… should he act completely oblivious? Play the innocent fool?
He smirked to himself.
Yeah, no one would buy that.
Everyone already assumed he was a menace. If he tried to act like some helpless victim, they'd just call it an act.
Maybe he should own it. Admit that he put his name in—just… leave out the part about Moody and the ancient magic.
It wasn't a bad plan.
Or maybe it was best to just wait and see how things unfolded. He was good at improvising, after all. He'd take things as they came, probably feign ignorance to some degree—just enough to keep them from digging too deep—but not enough to seem weak.
Yeah. That sounded about right.
His thoughts flickered, just for a moment, to Terry, Padma, and Jess.
Would they be shocked? Would they believe the rumours that he was as reckless as everyone claimed?
Would they even care?
Not that it mattered.
It was just curiosity, that was all.
Adrian exhaled sharply and shut the book in front of him. No point in pretending to read when his mind was already in the Great Hall, waiting for the moment the Goblet spat his name into the fire.
He rolled his shoulders, stretched his neck, and stood up.
By the time he stepped out of the library and into the dimly lit corridors, the castle was already buzzing with anticipation. Students were making their way toward the Great Hall, their voices bubbling with excitement as they speculated over who the champions would be.
Adrian fell into step with the crowd, slipping into the flow of movement as they headed toward the grand doors.
No turning back now.
The Halloween Feast stretched on forever.
Adrian sat at the far end of the Ravenclaw table, idly pushing a piece of roasted pumpkin around his plate, ignoring the golden goblets filled to the brim with spiced cider. The food was extravagant, as always, but tonight? He had no appetite.
And neither did most of the hall, judging by how restless everyone was.
Everywhere, students were craning their necks toward the Goblet of Fire, eyes darting to it between bites. The blue-white flames flickered ominously near the teacher's table, standing against the darkened backdrop of the enchanted ceiling—tonight, it mirrored the stormy sky outside.
A heavy anticipation gripped the room, stretching the tension thinner and thinner as students fidgeted, whispered, and stole glances at their watches. Even the professors seemed impatient—Karkaroff's fingers tapped against the table, his eyes locked onto the Goblet; Madame Maxime's expression was carefully schooled, but her shoulders were tense.
Adrian took a slow sip of water, rolling his shoulder's.
Any moment now.
A few seats down, Terry and Padma sat stiffly, talking in hushed voices with other Ravenclaws. Jess was hunched over slightly, staring at her plate but barely touching her food. No one had spoken to Adrian all evening. Not that he expected them to.
Daphne sat at the Slytherin table, looking perfectly unbothered, lazily twirling her fork between her fingers. Cool as ever.
Adrian smirked slightly to himself. He had to admire how unfazed she was.
At long last, the plates vanished, leaving behind spotless golden surfaces. The noise in the hall rose sharply as students sat up straight, voices buzzing with excitement.
Then—
Dumbledore stood.
The room fell silent instantly.
"Well," Dumbledore said, his voice carrying through the Great Hall, "the goblet is almost ready to make its decision. I estimate that it requires one more minute. Now, when the champions' names are called, I would ask them please to come up to the top of the Hall, walk along the staff table, and go through into the next chamber"—he indicated a door behind the teachers' table—"where they will be receiving their first instructions."
He raised his wand and gave one great sweeping wave.
Every candle in the Great Hall—except those inside the carved pumpkins—immediately went out.
A hush spread over the students as the only light remaining was from the Goblet of Fire—glowing a shimmering blue-white, illuminating the expectant faces watching it.
The tension coiled tighter and tighter as students leaned forward in their seats, breaths held.
Adrian rested his chin on his fist, watching.
Waiting.
"Any second now," Lee Jordan whispered excitedly from the Gryffindor table.
And then—
The flames turned blood red.
A burst of sparks shot into the air. Then, with a sharp whoosh, the flames roared higher, spitting out a blackened piece of parchment.
Dumbledore caught it in one swift motion and, holding it at arm's length, read aloud in a strong, clear voice:
"The champion for Durmstrang… will be Viktor Krum."
The Hall exploded into cheers.
"Called it!" Seamus Finnigan shouted.
The Slytherin table erupted, slamming their hands against the wood, chanting Krum's name. Adrian could see Karkaroff grinning far too smugly, his hands clapping together in slow, deliberate applause.
Funny you're clapping Karkaroff ,you cunt, for I will also be a champion. What will you think then?
Viktor Krum stood from the Slytherin table with his usual stoic indifference, giving a brief nod to his fellow Durmstrang students before making his way toward the staff table. The cheers followed him as he strode through the door behind the professors, disappearing from view.
The clapping died down quickly, and once again, all eyes were on the Goblet.
A moment later—
The flames surged red again. Another scrap of parchment shot into the air, and Dumbledore caught it with ease.
"The champion for Beauxbatons… is Fleur Delacour!"
Gasps and excited murmurs filled the air as a strikingly beautiful blonde girl stood gracefully from the Beauxbatons table.
"She's so beautiful, she had to get in," someone whispered.
Some Beauxbatons students looked crushed—a pair of girls outright burst into tears, burying their faces in their arms.
Fleur, however, walked with an effortless, regal air between the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables, her silver-blonde hair shimmering in the firelight.
"Merlin, she's gorgeous," one of the Hufflepuff boys muttered.
"Bet she hexes you into next week if you say that to her face," his friend snorted.
Adrian smirked.
Another hush fell over the Hall as Fleur vanished through the same door.
Now, there was only one name left to call.
Well... That's what everyone else thought at least.
The Goblet flared red a third time.
A final piece of parchment shot out, and Dumbledore caught it swiftly.
"The Hogwarts champion," he called, "is Cedric Diggory!"
The Great Hall erupted.
Hufflepuff exploded into cheers, stamping their feet, banging on the table as Cedric stood, grinning ear to ear.
"YES, DIGGORY!" someone shouted.
Even students from other houses clapped—Cedric was well-liked. Fair, intelligent, skilled. He wasn't controversial—he was the kind of person everyone could rally behind.
Cedric made his way toward the staff table, shaking hands as he passed. Applause followed him all the way until he, too, disappeared through the side chamber.
Dumbledore smiled, raising his hands.
"Excellent!" he said happily. "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—"
Then—
The Goblet flared red.
The applause vanished instantly.
The room froze.
No one moved. No one spoke.
Sparks shot into the air once more, and a fourth piece of parchment flew out.
A long, bony hand caught it mid-air.
Dumbledore's face changed.
The warmth, the enthusiasm—it was gone.
He stared at the parchment for a moment too long.
A moment that stretched far too long.
Then, he cleared his throat and read:
"Adrian Valor."
Well… showtime.
There we go! Hope you enjoyed the duel with Malfoy and the goons. I am currently trying to build up Daphne and Adrian's relationship but who knows if that will survive the coming events? And I got some really cool stuff planned for next chapter. Next chapter is gonna be longer possibly in the 8k word mark.
I hope you enjoyed it and see y'all next time!