the triwizard tournament
11 october 1996
Mattheo’s POV
“Hi,” a small voice murmurs from my side and I look down at the ethereal vision that is Mia Potter in the morning. Her green eyes look up at me hazily, a sleepy smile on her lips, her auburn hair messily falling out of the bun she’d worn yesterday.
“Hi, princess,” I smile, resting my coffee cup and sketchbook on the nightstand before laying back down and pulling Mia over into my arms. Mia hums contently, nuzzling her head into my shoulder. “How’d you sleep?”
“Good,” she says through a yawn, “You?”
“Like a baby,” I confirm, my fingers playing with a strand of hair falling out of her bun mindlessly.
“Do I smell coffee?” She asks, turning so her hand rests on my bare chest and her chin resting over her scar so she can look at me. I nod and reach over to grab the coffee cup and hand it to her. She props herself up on her elbows and takes a sip and sighs happily. “You need to teach me how you make your coffee. Everytime I try it's practically herbal tea,” she says after she finishes the cup and I grab my wand and tap the cup, filling it back up with coffee, just to see the joy and wonder shine in her eyes.
“The simplest things make you happy,” I chuckle, my knuckles brushing against her cheek.
“Good coffee goes a long way,” she chuckles, offering me the cup back and I take a long sip before I rest it back on the nightstand. I lay back on the pillows, gazing at the woman in my arms with awe. “What?”
“Nothing, just… I’m sorry about Elladora,” I respond softly, one arm behind my head and the other fiddling with Mia’s fingers, her nails painted a dark red.
“Don’t be. I’m used to Lestrange and her venom,” she responds easily, weaving her fingers with mine.
“You’re gonna realize I’m more trouble than I’m worth soon,” I chuckle, my eyes taking in the sight before me, terrified it's destined to fall apart even though it feels more right than anything has before.
“I don’t mind trouble,” Mia responds with a soft smile, “It keeps life interesting,” she says, pulling herself up to hover over me. My hands immediately find her waist beneath the scarlet quilt, rubbing circles on her skin with my thumb.
“Mia…”
“Don’t,” she says, shaking her head, “Don’t try to talk yourself or me out of this, Matt. No one else matters, except us.” She leans down as her forehead connects with mine, her arms bending so she’s laying directly on top of me. “No one else changes this,” she whispers, her fingers running through my hair.
“You’re right,” I mutter with a nod and she moves her head back to look at me.
“I usually am,” she winks with a smile. I smile and pull her closer again; our lips connecting again as I roll us over so I’m on top of Mia, pinning her beneath me.
“Hm, of course you are, princess,” I say lowly in her ear before my lips trail a line down the soft skin of her neck, the faded smell of perfume and smoke lingering on her skin. Mia lets out a soft gasp, her hands exploring the expanse of my back, sending chills up my spine, and I wish I could stay here in this moment for the rest of my life, this woman in my arms as we ignore the rest of the world.
✦
Euphemia’s POV
“Hey, can I talk to you?” I ask, twisting my ring anxiously. Fred looks up from some small invention in his fingers, his eyes catching on my hands, and nods. Even though Mrs. Weasley threw away all their order forms and inventions for Weasley Wizarding Wheezes, George and Fred have stayed determined. I sit on the couch and sigh. “I have to tell you something and I don’t want you to get mad at me. Or get even more mad at me than you already are.” Fred’s hands stop fiddling and he looks up again at me, his eyes distant.
“Let me guess, you and Riddle are officially together,” he says bluntly. He’s always known me better than anyone else, able to read me easily.
“Yeah… I wanted you to hear it from me first and I know you don’t approve and I also can’t stand that you’re mad at me but I’m also not going to stop seeing him so we need to figure out where we go from here. I know you hate him and you don’t have to like him but I need you to at least try to give him a chance. Just try to tolerate him at least, please. That’s all I’m asking, Freddie. You’re my best friend and I just need you to try because you being mad at me is driving me crazy,” I say, quickly running through all the things I decided I needed to say to him.
“He’s going to fuck everything up, Mia. Your happiness, your reputation, you-”
“Well it’s mine to ruin! I’m happy now and I don’t care about what anyone else in the world thinks. It’s not my fault everyone else has unrealistic expectations of me,” I interrupt him, beyond tired of being expected to live up to this perfect, innocent little girl idea everyone wants me to be.
“This isn’t you!” Fred says, waving his hands wildly.
“Yes, it is, don’t you see?! For probably the first time in my life this is completely and totally me. What I want, not what’s best for Harry or what I think everyone else wants for me, just what I want. I’m tired, Freddie. I’m tired of doing what I think I’m supposed to do or what everyone else says to.” I say exasperated and pleading with him to understand. Fred watches me for a long moment, his eyes looking at me like I’m an invention he can’t get to work properly. “Just once, I want to do what I want.”
“You really like him, don’t you?” He says finally, his eyes softer than they were before.
“Yeah,” I say, so quietly it's almost a whisper, “I do.” Fred nods, setting the small box he was working on down and his eyes finally find mine.
“If he hurts you, George and I will make him pay for it,” he says matter of factly, as if he was commenting on the weather. I can’t help but laugh a little.
“Harry said the same thing so I’m sure he’d be willing to help if it comes to that,” I chuckle.
“Good, I think Bill and Charlie will want to pitch in. Ginny too, I’m sure.”
“I’ll make sure to tell him that he’ll have to answer to the whole Weasley clan if he fucks up,” I smile. Fred laughs and nods, his eyes a little distant for a moment, staring off just to the left of me. “So we’re good? You don’t hate me for-”
“I could never hate you, Mia. We’re all good. As long as you’re happy,” Fred interrupts me, knocking his shoulder against mine playfully.
“Thank you… I love you, Freddie,” I say, leaning into my best friend.
“Love you too, Phe. In a totally platonic, you’re my best friend save George kinda way,” Fred responds with a cheeky grin and we both laugh.
“Did you guys finally make up?” George asks as he steps off the stairs and comes to sit next to Fred.
“Yeah, we’re good,” Fred nods with a smile for me.
“Thank, Godric!” George yells loudly, making everyone in the common room whip around to look at us and the three of us burst into laughter and for the moment. Everything feels normal again as we laugh and the rest of the room shakes their heads at us thinking, Just the twins and Mia making a ruckus again. Life as normal.
✦
24 october 1996
I sit at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall for the Welcome Feast for the students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang. The Great Hall is decked out with banners of the houses and the Hogwarts crest. An extra table has been added to the hall for the visiting students, one side filled by French students dressed in silk blue robes that cannot be very warm and the other filled with the students of the Scandinavian school who are dressed much more appropriately for the weather. Madam Maxine of Beauxbatons and Headmaster Karkaroff of Durmstrang sit up at the teacher’s table as well as Mr. Crouch from the Ministry of Magic.
As we eat, talk circles heavily around the tournament but most people are in awe of Victor Krum who came with the Durmstrang entourage. Ron and Harry, in particular, in star struck that the Bulgarian Seeker is in the same building as them for the second time in a season. While my friends are more concerned with the French girls.
“Man, I’m telling you, they don’t make girls like that at Hogwarts,” Fred says, sparing a smile for the girls at the guest table which sends a small cacophony of giggles into the air.
“Ugh, really nice,” I scoff and roll my eyes.
“Just truth telling,” Fred shrugs.
“Well they certainly don’t make men like Krum at Hogwarts either,” Angelina responds with a smirk, turning over her shoulder towards the Durmstrag students, and George’s face sours. I make eye contact with Alicia and we both fail to stifle our laughter. We all know George and Angelina are whipped for each other, except them, but before either can question Ali and I, Dumbledore stands and holds his hands up for silence.
“The Triwizard Tournament is about to start. I would like to say a few words of explanation before we bring in the case just to clarify the procedure that we will be following this year. But first, let me introduce, for those who do not know them, Mr. Bartemius Crouch, from the Department of International Magical Cooperation,” Dumbledore motions to Crouch as we clap half heartedly. “Mr. Crouch has helped make the necessary arrangements for each challenge, of which there will be three, spaced out throughout the school year.”
“So three tasks is the reason we can’t play Quidditch this year?” Angelina mutters and I shrug.
“Three champions will be chosen, one from each school, to compete in these tasks and will be marked on how they perform and the winner will win the Triwizard Cup,” to which Dumbledore motions back to Crouch who holds up a large trophy that looks similar to the Quidditch Cup we won last year. “The champions will be chosen by an impartial party. The Goblet of Fire!” Dumbledore then motions to his other side where a case, placed by Mr. Filch, sits. Dumbledore waves his hand and the case disappears to show a huge goblet with a massive base making it nearly as tall as the Headmaster himself. Blue flames flicker over the rim as everyone cranes their necks to get a view.
“Anyone wishing to submit their names must write their name and school on a piece of parchment and drop it into the goblet by dinner on the 31st. After our annual Halloween feast, the choosing ceremony will take place and the Triwizard Tournament will begin!” At this students erupt in cheers and applause. George and Fred share a look and I know they are plotting to put their names forward. “Now, as I have mentioned previously, only students of 19 years and older may put forth their names,” grumbling rumbles through the student body at this.
“Once a champion has been selected by the Goblet of Fire, he or she is obliged to see the tournament through to the end. The placing of your name in the goblet constitutes a binding, magical contract. There is no turning back. Please be very sure, therefore, that you are wholeheartedly prepared to play before you drop your name into the goblet. Now, I think it is time for bed. Good night to you all!”
“He loves to leave it all on a cheery note, doesn’t he?” Lee laughs as we exit into the hallway and move to the side, Ang, Alicia, Lee and I waiting on the Twins who got stuck in the crowd.
“Hey,” a voice whispers in my ear as hands land on my hips and I startle, turning to see Mattheo smirking.
“You scared me!” I playfully scold, “Didn’t know who the hell was trying to touch me!”
“Hm, I think most guys here are smart enough not to touch my girl,” Matt says with a proud smirk, and then turns to greet my friends.
“‘Sup, mate?” Lee says with a smile. Since I talked with Fred, the boys have been much more receptive to Mattheo and his friends. It’s not perfect; George and Theo got into a tiff a week or so ago but they’re trying and that’s all I can ask for.
“I think an aging potion would do the trick, don't you?” Fred says to George as they emerge around the corner.
“Riddle, you’re good at Potions right?” George asks, seeing Mattheo next to me.
“Yeah, s'pose so. Why? Cause I don’t tutor,” Matt responds and I elbow him in the side playfully.
“Theoretically, you could brew an aging potion to only age you a few months, right?” Fred asks, both of the Weasleys looking very intensely at my boyfriend.
“Don’t rope him into whatever the two of you are up to!”
“Eh, it’s less about the brewing and more about how much you drink. It’ll be tricky though…” Matt responds with a shrug.
“Guys, you cannot tell me you’re seriously going to try this hard to get into the tournament?” Alicia asks bewildered.
“What if they kick you out when they find out you're only 18?” Lee chimes in.
“You heard Dumbledore,” Fred says.
“Putting your name is a binding contract. They couldn’t stop you competing if they wanted,” George finishes.
“Just don’t ask for my help when you realize you made yourself 30,” I chuckle, weaving my hand with Mattheo’s as we climb the stairs towards the Gryffindor Common Room. Lately, Mattheo has been staying in my room more often than his own, not that I’m complaining. And right now, I’m happy as can be in the midst of my friends and boyfriend as they continue chatting excitedly.