The Goblet of Fire Open

Name: Aurelia Notresvace
Year: 5th
School: Hogwarts
Special: Hadrian Zu Draven Mirador, Falentra Black

• ᴠᴀᴅɪᴍɪʀ ᴍᴀʀᴋᴏᴠɪᴄʜ ᴠᴏʟᴋᴏᴠ •
· || ────────────────── ────────────────── || ·
The Great Hall - 20th March 2022
Dialogue: "English" | "Russian"

Vadimir had not slept well. Dreary-eyed, the Russian boy stumbled out of bed, and began to stretch his back with arms thrust upward. He felt absolutely terrible, unable to fall into a deep sleep at all, which resulted in a night full of tossing and turning. And what had caused the inability to sleep?

The place - all of it - in every respect.

It was ridiculous. Rooms that were far too big, with beds far too plush and comfortable - sickeningly so - with far too many fluffy pillows, and it was drafty. Cold stone and masonry, fancy statues and obscene living paintings that simply wouldn't shut up during the night, it had sounded like a circus to the Russian... and that was all before staying at the provided campsite for the school. The entirety of Hogwarts had put the Russian boy on edge, as Vadimir was used to quieter places, smaller places, and an appropriately comfortable bed - one that was rigid, with a small amount of padding, and reminded him of the importance of never getting too complacent.

But even the distance from the castle itself couldn't calm Vadimir's unease with it all.

Hogwarts... so pathetic. It is a place for privilege to be allowed every privilege.

Once Vadimir was dressed, once again in his Koldovstoretz school uniform, he stepped out of the room he had been allocated... and was immediately jumped by Tarja Akimovna. She called about going to place names into the cup, which had been the plan for the day, but apparently his friend felt that it was a task best done in the early morning. With a nod and yawn, Vadimir pulled on his dark blue kaftan coat, as he said repeatedly:

"Okay, okay, okay, okay..." Vadimir rubbed at one eye as he listened to the question about information. Tarja was a good friend, a close friend, so he didn't react when she used his more familiar nickname. "What? Yes. I wrote it last night, when I couldn't sleep... you're very animated today, Darya."

In his pocket, Vadimir had the piece of paper. He considered it, as the pair made the walk to the castle, though the Russian boy's attention shifted the closer he got to Hogwarts. All he could think about was the students inside, living like Kings and Queens, given everything - and more - and who still were prone to complaining or expecting more and more and more, always more. Vadimir curled his lip in disgust, his bright eyes looked away from the castle, as he spat onto the grass.

"I do not know," Vadimir said in reply to Tarja's question about the order of names, and favoritism. "Somehow I do not think it will matter much, either way. The champions will have friends, those friends will be picked. That is how it will be."

Especially for the Hogwarts students. Vadimir had no doubt in his mind that such an opulent and ridiculous school, with equally soft and entitled students, would completely engage in favoritism. Vadimir felt differently about Koldovstoretz, however, he believed - being full-blooded Russian - that whoever was their champion would pick the strongest. Then, Vadimir considered for a moment...

"And yes, I believe many have put names in. An opportunity to bring honor to a school is a good goal, especially earning that for Koldovstoretz. I expect all our students to do the same, with their names in the cup."

The Great Hall was - unfortunately - impressive, as even Vadimir found himself with eyebrows raised and eyes lifted to peer at the sky-looking ceiling overhead. The numerous candles that floated and the archways overhead were similarly impressive, but also completely fit with Vadimir's opinion of Hogwarts being over the top. The fiery cup was toward the far end, with youth around it, some simply looking while others put paper into the flames. Not as many as Vadimir expected, but it was also early morning - he glared at Tarja - then walked beside his friend as they approached the famed flaming cup.

Where Tarja was grace, Vadimir was disregard.

"Move, all of you," Vadimir said in English as he pushed through students that blocked the way. He had no time or care to waste pleasantries on these people, and instead bulled his way through, until he stood at the foot of the fiery cup. It was impressive up close, with the bright flames and crystal-like structure. "Ah... so this is it. Go on, then, Darya."

Vadimir watched his friend put her paper into the fire. She seemed a little awed by the magical cup, which was understandable, as even he had to admit to that as well. Still, the pair of Russians had a reason for standing there, and it was Vadimir's turn; so, with a hand into his pocket, the tall eleven year old pulled out his scrunched up entry and took a quick look to make sure it was in order:

Name: Vadimir Markovich Volkov
Year First: First
School: Koldovstoretz
Special Person: Tarja Akimovna Blavatsky

Then, with a smirk, Vadimir lifted his arm and dropped the note inside the flames. He watched the same burst of brightness as Tarja's entry had, then looked to his friend. She seemed eager to explore the castle, and despite his immediate dislike of Hogwarts on arrival, Vadimir supposed that wandering might be useful. At the very least the pair might discover some information, or meet with students, to gain some understanding of what the tournament might bring.

"Very well. Though you're nicer, so you do the talking."

With a curious glance to another student who approached the fiery cup, someone else from Koldovstoretz, Vadimir sneered at the boy. It was that American, the one who liked being a cowboy, and had started to attend the Russian school for some reason. Vadimir glared at the smaller boy, even if Edward Smith (@Noah Jupe) was older, but resisted the urge to bump into the other with a shoulder - they were both from Koldovstoretz, after all, even if Vadimir thought a foreign American was a slight on the institution, so it didn't make sense to show animosity in front of competition.

Without further care, Vadimir turned and followed Tarja. He reached over and grabbed some bread from one of the long tables, where some Hogwarts students sat, and took a bite even as they exclaimed surprise. The Russian shrugged, smirking, as he continued to eat the breakfast food, before exiting the Great Hall and exploring the school with his friend...

Interacting with:

Tarja Akimovna Blavatsky (@Liana Kerr)
Vadimir leaves the thread.

Banner made by the creative Cody Stevenson

Hex Code #4B0082 - English #3c78d8 - French #800000 - Latin #008080 - Spanish

Interact With N / A

Mention(s) @Hanako Tone @Henry Knight @Starlee Kennedy

The Outfits Black and Dark Green Sleeveless Sport Top Black Tights Dark Green Sneakers

Saturday, March 26th, 2o22 Sign up for the Goblet of Fire

When the Headmaster announced the Goblet of Fire prior the arrival of the others 4 magical schools, Cash did not paid any mind to it. They knew the tournament is a death-defying games and yet their school alongside the other schools could not stop talking about it. They saw some of their school peers get up from where they were situated when the Goblet was brought up into the light.

But it was four days ago. Four days ago Cash was not taken any interest in putting their name into the Goblet but today was a different day for the green eyes. After the green eyes done with their morning run, their initial plan was to wash up as soon as possible. But to reach their Common Room, they definitely passed the Courtyard and the Great Hall.

The Great Hall where the Goblet of Fires stood for anyone to see. Once the Beater passed the room, they looked at the Goblet from the distance. The blue flame gave a soft blue glow filling in the empty Hall. It was like something pulled Cash in when they gaze their eyes on the Goblet. Slowly but surely they stepped closer and closer to the Goblet with every step they took.

The Cuban descendant knew how dangerous the game could be. They also knew this year's Goblet of Fire tournament was a bit different than its predecessor. Instead of only one champion, this year's Tournament will be divided into teams. And so when they were only a couple of steps away from the Goblet, Cash had a moment of doubt.

They want to enter but in the back of their mind, they knew the risks are not that worthy. At this point, Cash debated within themselves. A point of will they, won't they for the young Ironwoods. It seems like forever until Cash continued their step and throw the piece of paper that they had written a few days ago into the fire.

The piece of paper had the following pieces of information

𝐍𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝒞𝒶𝓈𝓈𝒶𝓃𝒹𝓇𝒶 𝐼𝓇𝑜𝓃𝓌𝑜𝑜𝒹𝓈
𝐘𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝒯𝒽𝒾𝓇𝒹
𝐒𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐥 𝐻𝑜𝑔𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓉𝓈
𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝒮𝓉𝒶𝓇𝓁𝑒𝑒 𝒦𝑒𝓃𝓃𝑒𝒹𝓎

Perhaps it was a mistake putting down Starlee's name in it. Their father once said choose and pick someone that you don't have any emotional attachment with. It was easier said than done. Starlee was like a younger sister they never had. Their choices came down to Hanako Tone, Henry Knight, or Starlee Kennedy.

And to be honest, Cash rather gets burned by a Hungarian Horntail than put down Tone's name as their special person. Besides, the nature of the relationship of Cash and the dwarf Tone is weird as heck. As much they wanted to put down Henry's name, their bond with Henry was not as strong as with Starlee. Sorry not sorry, mate!

When they throw their name into the Goblet, they saw the blue fire lick the piece of paper until it was gone from their sight. Up until this point, Cash was not sure why they enter the Tournament in the first place. Do they want to bring fame and glory for their school? Probably. Do they care if they get picked? Maybe. Do they have a death wish? More likely.

One thing is for sure if the Goblet picked their name, Cash better be prepared for it. But if not, they can live their life for another day (mostly) in peace.

Cash has left the thread.

[font=times new roman]hex: #3a5948

[font=times new roman]Okay, Wyatt thought as he filled out a paper that asked not much of him. He had looked on as many kids put their names into the Goblet. All of them more qualified, he thought. Even Draven, a first year, would handle himself better than Wyatt believed he could in the possible trials of the tournament. He was one of the first to go up there, and it confused Wyatt. Why was he so eager to join the tournament?

He was a quidditch player, which meant he had to be more daring than Wyatt had seen of him in the halls or in the library that night. Still, he didn’t really seem the type to do such a thing. No matter, he’d made his choice. And so did Alec, apparently, as he offered his name to the fiery cup. Not before Henry Knight, of course, but Wyatt didn’t feel all that well looking at him so he didn’t let his eyes linger so much.

Wyatt looked back down at his slip, remembering why he decided to survey those putting their names in the Goblet in the first place. Wyatt didn’t know what the thing meant by special person. It could mean so many things: the person you’d like to fight alongside, the person you’d hate to work with, the special someone you’d bring to the ball, the person you’d wish to be excluded from the Goblet’s consideration for their safety.

Whatever it was, Wyatt wanted to get it right the first time, unsure of how crossed-out names would be interpreted by the cup. Of course, he could get another paper, but why do that when you could just make up your mind! Wyatt was indecisive, that’s why. He’d thought of Alec, but didn’t know where they stood. Draven, too, but he didn’t want to involve the first year more than he’d involved himself. Hanako? No. God, no. For a brief moment, Wyatt thought of Opeila, but he stopped himself. He’d already done her enough harm.

Well, if there was anyone Wyatt believed was the most aware of what they were doing by that damned cup, it was Alec. Wyatt only knew him to take risks when he felt it would go in his favor at least a little. Sure, he climbed on trees even though doors worked just fine, but he was rather anxious (last Wyatt saw him most) and wouldn’t be the type to enter his name into a deathly competition if he wasn’t sure.

Okay, Wyatt thought as he finished writing, walked to the Goblet, and flicked a slip of paper into its flames.

[font=times new roman]Name Wyatt Starkey
Year Third
School Hogwarts
Special Person Alec Mason

[font=times new roman]Wyatt has left the thread

[font=times new roman]Interacting: N/A
Mentioning: Draven Mirador, Alec Mason, Henry Knight, Hanako Tone, Opeila Winters

Cassie grinned, following Charles into Hogwarts' aptly named Great Hall. Although it was usually just a place for meals, for now the room had a duel purpose: it was also the site of the Goblet of Fire (which was, sadly, a goblet, not a statue of a dragon, which Cassie thought would be way cooler), which meant that it was constantly full of a steady stream of students from every school daring each other to put in their names. "I doubt we'll be last," Cassie reassured her friend. "And it won't matter if we are anyway." The Goblet presumably wouldn't choose the champions based on when they'd put their names in: it would chose the most worthy to be a champion.

Cassie fervently hoped it would see that worthiness in her.

Charles went first, taking his time deliberating over his slip of parchment. Cassie almost offered to throw it in for him, but he did so without her help, leaving her to do her own.

Name: Cassie Heather McGregor-Martin.
Year: Third.

Cassie paused on that, wondering if she should put second year, since that was the year she'd be in if she went to Hogwarts. But she didn't - she went to Beauxbatons - so she left it as it was.

School: l'Académie de Magie Beauxbâtons. Beauxbatons Academy of Magic

Just plain old 'Beauxbatons' would probably have sufficed, but if Cassie was really going to show some school pride, surely the least she could do was write it out in full - and in French too.

Special Person:

What? What on Earth did that mean? Cassie tapped her pen nib (she always used a ballpoint when she could get away with it: quill ink inevitably ended up all over her clothes) against the parchment, thinking. She had no idea what would happen to this 'special person'. If she'd bothered to do some research, she would have known about the second task of the last Triwizard Tournament, but she hadn't, so she didn't. Maybe this 'special person' would get a share of the glory when Cassie won. In that case, she needed to put a friend, and presumably one who was at Hogwarts right now. A list of names ran through her head, but she shortened it by deciding that whoever she put down would probably have to be able to deal with whatever was thrown at them. There was another moment of silence before she decided.

Special Person: Charles Alluring.

Should she put his full name instead, just in case?

Special Person: Charles ^^Nako Alluring.

The Beauxbatons girl read over her form one more time, to check that everything was correct.

Name: Cassie Heather McGregor-Martin.
Year: Third.
School: l'Académie de Magie Beauxbâtons. Beauxbatons Academy of Magic
Special Person: Charles ^^Nako Alluring.

It was. Cassie chucked it in the goblet and left with Charles.

Date: March 27th, 2022 (Sunday, afternoon)

It did not take a math genius to know that Liana's odds of becoming the Hogwarts champion were extremely low. The guest schools only brought fairly small delegations - those kids had such good chances. Over ten percent, in some cases. There was no point in bothering to try and calculate how likely she would be to get selected - the number would be negligible, and only serve to discourage her from even trying. Not that she felt particularly encouraged in the first place. While seen as somewhat of a prodigy by a few of her peers, she had come to know her limitations and perceive herself realistically. Facing more than one opponent of her own age was already more than she could handle; and there would be five other champions, most - if not all - of them older and more experienced. If she somehow got chosen by the Goblet of Fire, it would just serve to humiliate her once the competitions actually started. And who could she even select as her teammates? Most of her friends were peers who were even less experienced than she was. Unless the Ministry would insist on picking the team for her, to ensure that the school was well-represented; in which case she would end up with a group of upperclassmen that did not respect her as a leader.

No, she did not really want to be the Hogwarts champion. The promise of glory and fame was enticing, but the responsibility and danger participating in this event would involve were deterring. Being the spearheading member of her school's team sounded like a nightmarish deal. The odds of surviving weren't great either, given the past tournaments and the current lack of security at the school. She could, however, handle being just an unassuming team member, one among seven; a lesser spotlight, and a far lesser danger.

But how does one go about getting into the champion's team? The first answer to that, of course, is 'by being their friend'. Well, that was a difficult feat to achieve, given that the champion would only be chosen next month. The second answer was 'by being noticed'. While she was not fooling herself thinking that she possessed some merit that would get her chosen just because she expressed interest, it was still very much likely that - depending on who the champion was - students that put their names into the goblet would be preferred. Perhaps, for a show of inclusiveness, a first-year would be sought out; in that case, Liana's odds wouldn't be all that bad.

There wasn't much she could do beyond demonstrating her determination publicly. That's why she was here today, on a Sunday afternoon, clutching a piece of yellowish parchment with her details written out neatly on it.

Name Liana Kerr
Year First
School Hogwarts
Special Person Margaret Hawkins

The 'Special Person' part had caused a momentary confusion. Was this meant to be a close friend who would be allowed to support the champion without being part of the team? This sounded like an nonhazardous enough role. She knew just the person for it; someone who was able to put Liana at ease with her mere presence. Maggie would definitely shine there, and, even more importantly, be safe while doing so. Probably. 'Safe' was a relative term at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. While Aurelius could have filled this role as well, she felt that should she somehow miraculously be chosen as the champion, she would want him by her side on the field instead. Selfish, but she didn't think the boy would mind.

She had waited almost a week to do this. On the first day, everyone was sure to rush in. A petite twelve-year-old would go unnoticed among well-known names of the 'popular kids'. Patience and timing would be needed in this endeavour. Now, when the initial wave of excitement had calmed down and the trickle of champion-wannabes had slowed, it was her turn.

The redhead walked the space between the two center tables, heading straight towards the goblet. Attracting attention had been her goal, yet now, feeling curious eyes following her, she felt the need to wipe her sweaty palms on her robes, and increase her pace to be done with this ordeal sooner. She did neither of those things, however. Liana's gaze was locked on her destination, her steps steady even as her heart raced. The Great Hall had never felt so massive - did it always take so long to cross it?

When she finally reached the goblet, the self-conscious realization of people watching her was so intense she did not even stop to admire the artefact in front of her. Instead, she just put the piece of parchment in, watched it go up in azure flames and turned on her heel, all feigned confidence and nonchalance. The trip towards the exit wasn't quite as long, for some reason. As she proceeded down the hallway, she wondered if the future champion of Hogwarts had watched her today, or if it was all in vain.

Liana has left the thread.

Nearly all of the student body were in the Great Hall and it wasn't for the scrumptious food. It was because there, in the Great Hall, was a magical artifact that everyone formed a line towards. It was called the Goblet of Fire; a magical artifact that allows students to submit their names and it chooses a few winners. It was almost like a magical raffle.

Walking into the Great Hall, Bloom saw how long the line was. Everyone had a slip in their hand. It was the slip that was to be dropped into the Goblet for the raffle to choose them as champion. Bloom grabbed a piece of paper and filled it out on the table. She wrote her name, house and year. The next question was a "special person." What did this mean? Who would she write as their special person? Bloom left it blank and went in line, thinking who should be that person. Did it mean crush? Did it mean family? There were so many different kinds of "special".

Waiting what felt like twenty minutes, Bloom began to scrunchy the piece of paper in her hand. Maybe this wasn't for her. She was not skilled in dueling and she was not magically savvy in general. What was she looking for putting her name in the goblet? Looking back, she saw that the line was getting longer. If she got out of line, it would be a thirty minute wait, no doubt. Looking back at the bunched up slip in the palm of her hand, Bloom took a deep breath. This wasn't what she wanted. She did not want to try for champion. It wasn't her. Bloom ripped the bunched up the piece of paper and walked out of line. She threw out the slip in the trash and left the Great Hall.

THREAD LEFT

Roleplaying as Durmstrang iNPC Arjan Oberoi

Stamina: 15 | Evasion: 8 | Strength: 17 | Wisdom: 3 | Arcane Power: 7 | Accuracy: 10
Abilities: Obnoxiously Strong | The Martial Artist | Spell Spread | Charmer

This was it, it was finally time. Soon, everyone would know what he knew - he was simply the best. Of course, Durmstrang was also going to be the winner of the Hexwizard Tournament but unfortunately, it would be months before he could prove that to everyone. For now, he would start by showing everyone what a champion looked like.

Donning a crisp and clean uniform, Arjan walked into the Great Hall with determination in every step he took. There was not a single crease or mark that could be found on his uniform and his hair was perfectly poofed. Even his shoelaces were perfectly tied. There was not a single strand out of place. Everything was just like him: perfect.

His footsteps could be heard tapping against the floor as he marched into the hall, his eyes focused on the only thing that mattered. It was easy to see, of course. It stood out, after all, and everyone was so focused on it - and those putting their names into it. Well, he was going to show them how handsome a champion was. A smirk crossed his face as he grabbed a piece of parchment. With zero hesitation, he wrote his name, year and school without flinching.

For a moment, there was a pause. A special person. That was what the goblet demanded of him. Who was really special to him? No one really. No one mattered to him more than himself or even, somewhat comparable to himself. Of course, putting himself would be foolish. This was clearly some sort of stupid challenge. He was not going to fall for it by putting himself and screwing up. In truth, the only one special enough was himself though.

But perhaps, he could put a friend. Or some cute chick that he had been flirting with. That could probably count. His eyes narrowed for a moment as he pondered on who to put. Then he scanned the room. Lynn? Slava? Phae? Fal? There were numerous names coming to mind, names of people from his own school that had grown to become friends as well as people from Hogwarts that had grown on him - the very few people from Hogwarts.

His gaze hit a familiar face. The face of his younger sister, frowning deeply at something. She looked rather ridiculous. Did she not know that appearance mattered? It was like she was so oblivious or unaware of this! Her hair was slightly out of place, did she even comb it today? Why was it everywhere - and why was she wearing a hat indoors? How rude. Hats were not meant to be worn indoors, had she not learned anything from their mother? He resisted the urge to roll his eyes, not wanting to give away his own feelings in case anyone was looking at him - and let's be fair, everyone was always paying soooo much attention to him. He was pretty incredible and everyone did really want to focus on him, after all!

That was when it hit him. The special person could be anyone. It could be a friend, a crush, a role model, a relative or even an enemy. It did not matter, as long as they were "special" to you somehow. She was special to him. She had a very special place and value - she could be easily manipulated and used by him. It did not take much to control her. He just had to shoot her a look and she usually agreed to whatever he wanted, because if she did not then she would be hearing from their mother - who always sided with him, of course. After all, he was right all the time and clearly the future of the family. Unlike her.

This was perfect. If the special person had to be someone who worked together, he could easily get her to do whatever he wanted to win. Unfortunately, it did mean that he would have to rely on her stupidity and failure, even when she was not very good. If it was something else, such as she was going to be held underwater like in the previous one then he clearly would not flinch on the matter anyway. It worked either way.

Name Desmond Arjan Shivaay Lazarus Oberoi-Towers ((AKA Arjan Oberoi))
Year Sixth Year
School Durmstrang Institute
Special Person Serena Towers of Hogwarts (Sibling)

With a smirk on his face, he threw the piece of paper into the goblet without hesitation. Done. Soon, he would be named champion of Durmstrang and then, Champion of the entire tournament. He would show them all. This was perfect. They would finally recognise his glory, the glory that he knew he had. With that, he turned and ran his hand through his hair flexing his biceps as he did to show everyone what the future Champion looked like. A pose or two later, he would make his exit. He did not care about the others who entered, it did not matter. After all, they were not going to win when he was playing. They were simply insignificant stepping stones on his journey to victory.

Mentions: @Howard White and @Hugh Lowe

Biting her lip, Serena stared at the piece of parchment in front of her. They had known about the tournament for about a month now, they knew that the goblet of fire was going to be coming to the school and that people would be asked to step forward to put their names in. She had been sitting in this very hall when she had heard the announcement, debating whether or not this was a good idea. This was not the first time, nor would it be the last. However, this was the last opportunity before she was forced to make a decision. The Goblet would be here for not too long. Those entering had to put their name in now before it was too late.

Yet, she had still not made a decision. How could she? The dangers of the tournament were not lost on her. She knew it was a bad idea. She also knew that the school would go ahead with it and that they had likely been through so much worse already. If anything, all of the dangers they had faced in the past five years would make this tournament so easy for them, surely. It was basically real-life practice, with their lives actually on the line. The tournament, for instance, was unlikely to involve hags. That was a good start.

It was not the danger of the tournament that made her heart beat loudly though. It was the fact that she was not worthy. Champion. Whoever was selected had to be strong, capable, brave. She was none of those things. Her entire life was a lie and only a handful of people knew it. She did not have the courage or strength to even be honest, how could she even contemplate being a champion for the school? She knew she was not good enough for such a thing. She knew that others would be better. But a part of her was also angry. The anger she had experienced seeing her friends constantly getting hurt, seeing people she loved being treated like shit. Serena had no idea if they were going to take part. If they did, she would support them with everything she had.

However, if they did not... someone should, right? She had spent the past few weeks reading over the Daily Prophet article that spoke about half-breeds and taking away their wands. It was crumpled up in her bedside table by now but she took it out and read it over and over at times. It instilled a desire to get up and fight. Not that she was even strong enough to admit she was a half-breed but... she had to do something, right? How could she just sit here whilst people out there spoke about taking away her friends' wands, their education, their entire lives? How was this fair or equal?

A curled fist hit the table in irritation. She hated this. She wanted to do something, anything. But she was also... terrified. That was the truth of the matter. Serena was scared.

Her eyes stared at the parchment, lifting up a quill to write on it. She paused as she hit the question of a "special person". A name came to mind in an instant. The one guy that she had actually told about her half-breed status rather willingly. Admittedly, she had kind of thought he knew or maybe, she just hoped he did. At the time, she was not thinking about it much. It escaped her lips before she had a chance to really process what was happening. Serena was not entirely sure if she ought to have told him but a part of her likely wanted him to know nonetheless. There was something about him. He was special to her in so many ways. Not just because she thought he was incredibly cute and he made her stomach flip every time he entered the room. But rather, he made her feel more confident in herself, more capable in her abilities and there was a desire to be a better person. If she was truly honest, she wanted him to know everything about her and still accept her for who she was. That was all.

Serena did not expect him to like her back or have any feelings beyond friendship. That was fine. All she truly wanted was to just be his friend and be in his presence. That was enough. She knew there was no way it would be more than that - he definitely did not feel anything for her, understandably so.

NAME Serena J. Towers
YEAR Fifth
SCHOOL Hogwarts
SPECIAL PERSON Howard White

As she stared at the parchment. His name staring back at her. What in Bodrig's name was she doing? This was not a good idea. They were friends, yes. But she had dragged him through enough. She had made him cry enough. Why was she even considering putting his name into the goblet? Why was she trying to drag him into this tournament when she had absolutely no idea if he even wanted to be part of it?

The guilt seeped in. Countless times, Howard had to step in and save her from getting hurt. He claimed he protected her because he wanted to but that did not stop her from feeling responsible or guilty for it. Seeing him getting hurt was painful. Seeing him getting hurt because of her was far worse. It ate away at her, constantly. Why was she dragging him into this fight that she wanted to have with supremacists and their anti-halfbreed ways?! He had managed to contain that anger he felt, he had managed to move on with everything, right?

Serena stared at the page. Her hand curled around the quill, gripping it tighter as it slid across the page. Without hesitation, she struck through his name. There was no way she could drag him into this. Right?

The internal debate continued for some time, a frown appearing on her face as she stared intently at her page. She started to write his name again before crossing it out. Then she pushed the page away. This was stupid, this entire thing was foolish. Then she pulled the parchment back. No, she had to do this. They had to do something, right? She did not know what or how but someone had to do something, right?

Tugging on her hat slightly, she adjusted it in an attempt to make sure that her ears were covered. Even indoors, she wore a hat over her loose hair. Right now, Serena was using the cold winter weather as an excuse for her actions. It was still not warm enough, that was her excuse for wearing a woolly hat indoors. However, the truth that only a few people knew was that she did it to cover her pointy ears which gave away her heritage faster than anything else did.

Sighing softly, she pondered on it. The next name that came to mind was her best friend. All of this was kind of for him. Everything she wanted to do was kind of for him. He had been hurt in front of her eyes. He had been hurt multiple times, simply for who he was. People hated him for just being tall and strong and she hated them all for it. Without Hugh, Serena would likely have been lost. She spent a lot of time eating alone or wandering around by herself. She knew a lot of people but she never really felt close to most of them. Even in a crowded room, she would feel alone. At events, she was the person hanging out by themselves by the food table.

Until Hugh came into her life. He encouraged her to make armour. When she was around him, she did not have to hide. He knew who she was, she never told him but he seemed to have always known and it never bothered him. Not even for a moment. If anything, the only thing that bothered him seemed to be the fact that she was hiding. Over the past year, they had grown to become better friends than she could have ever anticipated. He made her feel like she had a place in the world. Someone sort of valued her and that was irreplaceable. She never doubted it. As much as she cared for Howard, it was different with Hugh.

With Howard, she was nervous around him or worried he would see through her and figure out exactly how she felt about him. There was a pang of guilt associated with those feelings. Sure, they were friends but there was also so much negativity around it that she did not know what to do or how to behave all the time. It was confusing.

With Hugh, she never really felt nervous. She could just be who she was and he never judged for her it - though he insisted on calling her 'shorty' or something that would irk her. She was not that short! He also made her train so much and it was exhausting! Her noodle arms hurt so much. But as much as training and exercising sucked, she also knew that he did all of it because he cared for her. They were friends. He was the first person who told her she did not have to hide who she was. Of course, she did not listen. He told her that almost a year ago and she continued to hide. But it sparked something in her. Sparked a sense of hope, perhaps. It was likely the reason she opened up to Howard months later, it was likely the reason she opened up at all.

NAME Serena J. Towers
YEAR Fifth
SCHOOL Hogwarts
SPECIAL PERSON Howard White How Hugh Lowe

Hugh probably considered her this short annoying little pest that bothered him about broom racing and armour making or wanted to show off how adorable her rat was or whatever. But to her, he was her best friend. Without him, she would be lost. She stared at the piece of paper.

It was time. This was the moment she had to put it in the Goblet. She had made a decision about her special person, all that was left was putting her name in and seeing if she was picked. That was it.

But she could not get up. Her legs were not moving. She was stuck to the chair, frozen in place. Staring at this piece of parchment. What the hell was she doing? She could not do this. There was no way she would get chosen but even if she did... she was not good enough. She was not going to do anything but show people how weak she was and that would make everything worse. What if Hugh or Howard or any of her friends got dragged in and got hurt because of her?

This was foolish. Whilst she did not like her brother, there was something about his confidence that she lacked. She knew he would put his name into the goblet without hesitation straight away. But she was scared. If she could not even admit that she had goblin blood in her veins, how could she pretend she was worthy of being a champion?

She was not. It was that simple. She was not a champion. She was not worthy. This was ridiculous.

Crumpling the piece of parchment, she scrunched it up into a small and threw it on the floor as she pushed herself off the seat. . This was not happening, she was not going to enter. She could not do this. Her heart pounded aggressively in her chest as the fear surged through her body. The room was starting to feel claustrophobic, it seemed to be getting harder to breathe by the second. Without much further ado, she walked out of the Great Hall. She could not do this. As she turned the corridor, tears streamed down her face. She hated this. She was weak and she knew it. However, the fear had won. She would not be entering the Hexwizard Tournament, she was not going to put herself forward as champion. Her entry lay crumpled on the floor, likely ignored by most.