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Triwizard Champions

By Chris King

The Beginning

Fleur Delacour smiled widely when she first saw Hogwarts. The castle was huge, its many towers and turrets, reaching for the heavens themselves. The lake was a like a silver mirror, reflecting the world above it. Her class mates let out squeals of delight, as the carriage flew, lower and lower. Fleur ignored them, and watched as the students of Hogwarts stared at the carriage. She hadn't quite expected there to be so many students. Beauxbatons didn't have as many. She knew that Hogwarts was the best magic school in England, but she hadn't expected this. The ground was getting closer now, as the carriage hurtled towards the ground. The front three rows of students ran backwards, as the carriage hit the ground with tremendous force. Fleur gripped her seat tightly, forcing herself to remain still. A small boy she didn't recognise leapt from the carriage, carrying a small set of gold steps. Madame Maxime smiled at him and stepped out of the carriage, her voice carrying across the grounds.

"Dumbly-dorr," she said, in her usually deep voice. "I 'ope I find you well?"

Fleur didn't hear the Headmasters answer as she moved towards the door. Her fellow students streamed out of the carriage, shivering as the cool autumn air embraced them. Fleur too shook as the cold air hit her, but tried not to show. Her eyes swept over the students, her gaze fixing on a small, black haired boy. His piercing green eyes fixed on her for only a moment. She felt a strange flutter in her stomach, and blushed despite herself. Who was he?

Fleur thoughts revolved around the black haired boy, constantly through Dumbledore's speech. She already knew the perils of the tournament. There was no need to hear Dumbledore's speech, so her thoughts stayed on the boy, who now sat staring at the headmaster. She stared at him, taking in his every feature. He wore, round glasses that only magnified his emerald green eyes. His black hair, though untamed, suited him. He was average height, for a fourth year. She could see, through his, long, black robes, the muscled shoulders. She was bought back to reality by a loud eruption of noise, as the students began to eat. She turned away from the boy, and stared at all the food available. There were hundreds of dishes on the gold plates that were littered along the table. She recognised the French dishes and few of the English ones. She noticed that the bouillabaisse dish nearest her was now empty. She sighed and got up, and began walking towards the black haired boys table. She noticed the full bouillabaisse dish.

"Skrewts dong all right, Hagrid?" the black haired boy called to the staff table. Fluer frowned, not recognising the creature that he spoke of.

"Thrivin'," the large bearded man called back, happily. Taking a deep breath, and wondering idly why she was nervous she spoke.

"Excuse me, are you wanting ze bouillabaisse?" she asked looking at the two other fourth years next to the boy. She saw the red haired boy turn purple as he looked at her. His mouth was open slightly but no words came out. Fleur hated this reaction, but ignored him and looked at the bushy haired girl, who was trying not to laugh.

"Yeah, have it," the black haired boy said, pushing the dish towards her.

"You 'ave finished wiz it?" she asked trying not let her nerves come out in her voice. Something was strange about the boy's answer but she couldn't place it.

"Yeah," the red head answered breathlessly. "Yeah, it was excellent."

"Merci," she smiled at the bespectacled boy picking up the dish. He smiled back and turned to his friends. Fleur walked away a strange feeling in her stomach again. Then it clicked, the boy had not been influenced by her allure. Unlike his friend, she hated that typical reaction. She sighed and sat back down, and began to eat. After a few minutes the old headmaster stood up and began to speak. Fleur did not concentrate on his words, only on her thoughts. 'Why is he having such an effect?' she wondered, staring at her plate. She was interrupted by the whole all rising, signally the end of the feast. She got up and followed her fellow students towards the door, which was now beginning to block up. She saw the Durmstrang headmaster staring at the black haired fourth year.

"Yeah, that's Harry Potter." Mad-Eye Moody growled from behind Karkaroff.

"Harry Potter," Fleur breathed noticing, for the first time, the scar on the boy's forehead. She knew who the boy was, Gabrielle talked about him enough. The famous boy-who lived. Fleur had been anticipating an arrogant boy, who bragged about his achievements, but from what she could tell, the boy was humble, and well adjusted. The crowd began to move again. Fleur watched as Harry Potter and his friends walked out of the hall, and up a large spiral staircase. She tried to shake off the unknown feeling in her stomach, as she followed her classmates back to the carriage in the grounds.

Fleur was dreading the following day. Even though she was here, a small part of her did not want to enter the tournament. But she had no choice, she was here now, there was no going back. Madame Maxime, led all of her students into the great hall the following morning. Fleur took in the high ceiling once again, and wondered why anyone would want to live here. The hall was buzzing with talk and laughter as Fleur proceeded towards the Goblet of Fire. She had not paid it much attention the night before, but now she stared at the cup. It was made completely of wood. It was, as an object, quite normal. But then Fleur saw the blue flames that danced around the brim.

"Hey, Ron," Harry Potter said from his table. "It's your friend..." The red head stared at her again and went purple. Harry laughed and went back to looked at the goblet. The Beauxbaton students were now getting closer to the cup. The students that had been gathered around it moved back and stared at them. Fleur gripped the piece of parchment tightly in her hand, what if it rejected her name. What would happen then? She breathed deeply realizing she was the only one left now. She stepped up, next to the cup, and dropped her name into the flame. She turned before the red light shone from the cup and began to walk away.

The Halloween feast took almost an eternity. Fleur did not eat any of the extravagant food before her. She was waiting for the Goblet to make its choice. Part of her wanted this, more than almost anything in the world. Another thought that it was insane. Finally the feast ended and Fleur, like everyone else, stared at the staff table. Dumbledore got to his feet and began to speak. Fleur was having trouble paying attention however. Her fears were reaching new heights as she stared at the Goblet of Fire.

"The Champion for Drumstrang," Dumbledore bellowed. "Viktor Krum."

The hall was suddenly filled with applause. A round shouldered boy... man. Got up from the Slytherin table and slouched down the hall. When he reached the staff table he turned right and disappeared through a door to another chamber.

"Bravo, Viktor!" Karkaroff boomed, so loudly that even Fleur could hear him. "Knew you had it in you!"

The clapping and discussion died down. Everyone was so focused on the Goblet, ready for another name. A few seconds later t obliged. The flames turned red, and a second piece of parchment shot out of the cup.

"The Champion for Beauxbatons," Dumbledore said. Fleur's heart seemed to stop as the headmaster spoke. "Is Fleur Delacour!" The hall erupted as Fleur stood, her smile forced, hiding the sudden fear in her chest. Her fellow Beauxbaton glared at her as she proceeded up the hall, towards the staff table. Madame Maxime and Dumbledore smile at her as she entered the other chamber.

The chamber was a lot smaller than the great hall. The walls were lined with portraits, all of their inhabitants stared at Fleur as she entered. The wizards and witches in the paintings began muttering to each other as Fleur saw Krum. His eyes were oddly unfocused as he stared into the fire.

"You must be from Beauxbaton," he said eventually, he didn't look up, but continued to stare into the fire.

"Qui," Fleur confirmed joining him by the fire. She couldn't think of anything to say. What was there to say? They had been chosen to represent their schools. It was a daunting task for anyone. But Fleur dreaded it more than most would. She knew that her classmates would accuse her of cheating somehow.

"Sounds like ze 'Ogwarts champion 'as been chosen," Fleur announced as another eruption of clapping fill the hall. Krum could only nod. A tall seventh year boy, a grin plastered all over his face stepped into the chamber.

"Cedric Diggory," he smiled holding out a hand as he stepped towards the fire.

"Fleur Delacour," Fleur smiled graciously, shaking the boy's hand.

"Viktor Krum," Krum said stiffly, shaking the boys hand as well. Krum then proceeded to lean on the mantelpiece eyes still fixed on the fire. The Hogwarts champion nodded and joined the other two by the fire. The three champions had been decided. This was where the tournament started. There was no going back now. Would her parents be proud of her? Or would they be frightened for her? Fleur's thoughts were interrupted as the door to the Great Hall opened and Harry Potter stepped inside. His eyes were wide. His hands were shaking as he stood there, staring at the three champions.

"What is it?" she asked, doing her best to sound as a champion should. "Do zey want us back in ze Hall?" After all why else would he be here. He was staring at them, fear in his emerald green eyes. What could have happened, to cause this? Then Ludo Bagman entered the room. His usually jovial face was mask of shock. He took Harry's arm and bought him towards them.

"Extraordinary," Bagman muttered, "Absolutely extraordinary! Gentlemen... Lady," he added approaching the fireside, where the champions stood. "May I introduce – incredible though it may seem – the fourth Triwizard Champion."

Krum straightened where he stood. His disbelief evident by his stance. Diggory's head swivelled between Bagman and Harry. His shock displayed on his wide eyed face. Fleur couldn't quite believe Bagman either, maybe this was a joke. How could this fourteen year old boy, even if he was the Boy-Who-Lived. This must be a joke.

"Oh, vairy funny joke, Meester Bagman."

"Joke?" Bagman repeated nonplussed. "No, no, not at all! Harry's name just came out of the Goblet of Fire!"

Fleur frowned. How could this be happening? She glanced at the fourth Champion. He looked so fragile, but also defiant, as though he trying to prove something. He looked almost scary, but this must be a mistake. She decided to voice her idea. "But evidently zair 'as been a mistake," she said not taking her eyes of Harry. "'E cannot compete. 'E is too young."

The boy's face went from afraid to defiant. The flash of anger made his emerald green eyes shine brightly. Fleur had heard the story of course, everyone had. But the fact that he had cheated to get into the competition, she felt betrayed. But why? She had barely spoken to the boy.

"Well... it is amazing." Bagman said smiling down at Harry. "But as you know, the age restriction was only imposed this year as an extra safety measure. And as his name came out of the Goblet... I mean, I don't think there can be any ducking out at this stage... it's down in the rules, you're obliged... Harry will just have to do the best he-"

The door behind him opened again, and a large group of people came in. Dumbledore, followed by , Karkaroff, Madame Maxime, a stern looking witch and a greasy haired teacher. The sound of buzzing in the hall filled the chamber before the door swung shut.

"Madame Maxime!" Fleur cried hoping that she would listen. "Zey are saying zat zis little boy is to compete also!" She looked at Harry for his reaction and felt a pang of guilt as the hurt look crossed his face. His eyes seemed to lose their gleam.

"Little boy?" he repeated in a quiet voice. Everyone in the chamber stared at him, as he looked at Fleur. "Have you ever fought a Basilisk, or fend off about hundred Dementors at once? Of course you haven't. I have seen things that would haunt your darkest nightmares. But you, like everyone else would know this." Fleur just stared blankly at him. She had heard of his defeat of he-who-must-not-be-named. But she had never heard anything about Basilisks or Dementors. She felt terrible.

"Harry, please, calm down." Dumbledore said trying to calm the boy down. Harry ignored him and walked towards the door. Every part of Fleur wanted to follow him, but remained where she stood.

"," Crouch called. "The First Task will take place on November the twenty-fourth."

"If I have to, then I'll be there." Harry said giving Fleur a glare that could kill. He turned and swept out of the door slamming it behind him.

"Is zat true?" Fleur asked looking at the teachers.

"Yes," Dumbledore said sadly his blue eyes staring at the floor. "I'm afraid it is . Harry has been through a lot here. I admit I didn't expect him to take the news this badly."

"But Professer-" Madame Maxime started but Dumbledore waved a hand silencing her.

"My dear, Madame Maxime, Professor Karkaroff, can we discuss this elsewhere?" Dumbledore asked moving towards the door. The two head teachers looked at each other and followed Dumbledore out of the chamber. The other professors followed them quickly leaving the three champions alone together.

"Didn't expect Potter to take it like that," Diggory said in the silence.

"Vat is he going to do?" Krum asked, making Fleur feel worse than before.

"I don't know, but he's right, you wouldn't believe what he's done." Diggory said shaking his head slightly.

"What 'ave I done?"

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