~.~.~Parts 17-19~.~.~
•Y/n's POV•
"Harry, what is this place." I shuddered, my fingers fidgeting with the sleeve of my jumper, butterflies were filling my stomach with nerves and worry.
"I don't know, Y/n. But stay close." He said, taking my hand and giving me a small smile, also filled with nerves.
The gold gate that had blocked the entrance to the chamber, elaborately twisted and turned into a beautiful arch. It had swung open slowly and elegantly, granting us into the chamber. It was filled with goblets and pots made of solid gold, glistening and shining off the red and yellow fire that was burning bright in the fireplace.
Cabinets were lined with plates and trinkets from different places from all around the world. The other champions were walking around the chamber or around the fireplace.
I met the eyes of my best friend, Cedric Diggory. His eyes seemed a mixture of confused and nervousness. In the distance, faint yelling of familiar voices, Dumbledore, McGonagall and Sprout, along with a few voices that I didn't know.
"Y/n?" He questioned over the noise that was growing louder. "What are you doing here?"
"Ced, I-" I started but people ran around the corner and down the stairs. Dumbledore ran over to us, putting a hand on one of mine and Harry's shoulders and pushing us back into the cabinet. The toppling of gold filled my ears and looked into the headmasters eyes, and then glancing over to Cedric's and Professor Sprout's.
"Harry, Y/n! Did you put your names in the goblet of fire?" He yelled, pushing us back a little more.
"No sir." We both said at the same time.
"Did you ask one of the older students to do it for both?" He asked, now shaking us.
"No sir." We said again, Harry still holding onto my hand.
"You're both absolutely sure?" Dumbledore questioned
"Yes sir." We said once more. Dumbledore sighed and let us go. Professor Sprout took a step closer to me and patted me reassuringly on the shoulder.
"Well of course they are lying." Madame Maxime called out, swatting the light shade out of her way, causing it to swing and creak as it moved.
"The hell they are!" Mad-Eye Moody yelled, thumbing his walking stick on the ground. "The goblet of fire is an exceptionally powerful magical object, only an exceptionally powerful conjurer could have hoodwinked it. Magic way beyond the talents of a fourth and fifth year."
"You seem to have given this a fair bit of thought Mad-Eye." Igor Karkaroff scoffed, putting his face straight into Moodys, a evil smirk on his face.
"It was once my job to think as dark wizards do Karkaroff perhaps you remember?" Moody scoffed back.
"That doesn't help Alastor." Dumbledore yelled, barging through him and Karkaroff, standing next to Barty Crouch. "Leave this to you Barty."
"The rules are absolute, the goblet of fire constitutes a binding magical contract. Mr Potter and Miss Lestrange has no choice, they are as of tonight... a tri-wizard champions." Barty said, staring up at a portrait that hung above the fireplace.
Shortly after, the staff left the chamber to have a private meeting about the champions, specifically about me and Harry. But as soon as I left, I ran over to Cedric and crashed into a hug, a few worried tears left my eyes, but quickly stopped.
"Y/n/n, are you okay?" He asked after I pulled away.
"I'm okay, I guess. Just a little shaken up." I responded, giving him a small smile.
"What happened in the great hall?" He asked. "Why are you and Harry here?"
"After you left, the goblet turned red again. And it spat out mine and Harry's names, and you saw what just happened." I explained to him. His mouth slowly falling open.
"Something definitely isn't right there. You definitely didn't put your name in it, you was by my side the whole time. You even said you didn't want to enter." He thought out loud, trying to figure out what is happening.
"That's what I was thinking." I replied.
"There's something else wrong, isn't there?" He asked. "You don't seem like yourself."
"There's nothing wrong." I said a little too quickly.
"You're my best friend Y/n, I can tell when there is something wrong." Cedric smiled.
"I'm just overthinking again." I said simply. "What if everyone hates me because they think I've taken the limelight from you."
"We both know you didn't take it. But no one will hate you, Y/n. Not on my watch."
~.~.~The Gryffindor Common Room~.~.~
•3rd Person POV•
"So, how did you two do it?" George asked Harry as soon as he sat down in the common room.
"Do what?" Harry asked, taking a deep breath.
"How did you and Y/n enter the tournament." George said, him and Fred coming to sit by Harry.
"I bet it's Y/n's doing all along, but added herself so no one can frame her for it." Fred scoffed in disgust
"She would never do that, Fred. Y/n is really nice."
The fire crackled, shining a red and orange hue over Fred's face.
"Don't be stupid, Harry. It's clearly a cover up, she's just like her mother. But knows how to hide it." Fred replied.
"Don't say that Fred! Y/n is one of the sweetest girl I've ever met. She's nothing like Bellatrix." George defeated.
"Watch Fred fall for Y/n." Harry joked to George, causing both of them to chuckle.
"Oh definitely." George laughed back.
"Ew, shut up. Both of you. I will never fall for Lestrange." Fred announced. "Never."
~.~.~One Week Later~.~.~
•Y/n's POV•
Herbology was my first lesson on the peaceful Monday morning. Peaceful because everyone ignored me, everyone except the golden trio, George and Cedric.
Professor Sprout is talking about the further care of mandrakes, revisiting the basics ready for my OWL exams in the summer.
In the middle of the lesson there was a small knock at the door, the Professor summoned the person in to see Denis Creevy, a first year Gryffindor.
"Good morning Professor Sprout." The boy nervously squeaked. "Can I take Y/n Lestrange. For an interview for the tournament."
"Of course. Miss Lestrange, you can go, and take your things with you." Professor Sprout said
I packed the things into my bag, slung it over my shoulder, tucked in my stool and walked out of the room with my head bowed.
We walked in silence back down to the chamber we were in two days before. This time it was bright and airy, the sun beating through the windows that were open ajar and a light breeze flowing around the room.
Cedric, Harry, Fleur and Viktor were all already there and sitting patiently for a picture. I took my seat next to Fleur and smiled for a few pictures.
Through the puff of smoke that the camera made, a woman appeared. She wore a lime green dress with a green coat and shoes. Her blonde hair was tied up and decorated with pins and beetle glasses on her face.
"What a charismatic quartet." She said. "Hello!" She added, walking up to shake our hands.
"I'm Rita Skeeter, I write for the daily prophet. But of course you know that don't you. It's you we don't know, you're the news. What quirks lurk beneath those rosy cheeks? what mysteries do the muscles
She takes me roughly by the hand into a broom closet, it was small and dark with a few stairs leading down to two small stools next to the window.
"This is cosy." Rita said happily
"It's a broomcupboard." I replied unenthusiastically
"You should feel right at home then." She said, causing me to frown in confusion. She pushed me down the steps and I sat onto the stool closest to the window. "Don't mind if I use the quill do you?"
"Oh, no." I said.
"So tell me Y/n, here you sit, a mere girl of thirteen.." She said, leaning forward in her seat.
"I'm fifteen." I corrected
"...about to compete against three students. Not only vastly more emotionally mature than yourself but have mastered spells that you wouldn't attempt in your dizziest daydreams. Concerned?"
"I dunno I haven't really thought about it." I replied honestly.
"Course you're not just any ordinary girl of thirteen are you..."
"Fifteen."
"The story's legend. Do you think it was the trauma of your past that made you so keen to enter such a dangerous tournament?"
"No I didn't enter." I said.
"Course you didn't. Everyone loves a rebel Y/n." She winked at me. Turning to her quill she said "Scratch
that last." And turning back to me "Speaking of your parents, were they not in Azkaban, how do you think they'd feel? proud? or concerned that your attitude shows at best a pathological need for attention, at worst a psychotic deathwish."
My eyebrows furrowed in confusion, but my eyes glanced over to her notepad. "Hey, my eyes aren't glistening with the ghosts of my past."
Thank Helga the interview was soon over, I got up and left the cupboard, I told Cedric all about it and told him how nervous I was for the task...
Word Count: 1600
A/n: Happy Tuesday and Happy November! I hope you've had a great few weeks! I've been away on Holiday to the Isle of Wight and have been writing this. I hope you enjoyed this chapter and sorry if it's boring. Have a great day :)
From
~Ella
You are reading the story above: TeenFic.Net