Before the Dawn | George Weasley

21

Students poured out of the Great Hall, stunned.

The Triwizard champion selection process had left us all in shock—Harry Potter had been selected as an unprecedented fourth champion, joining Cedric Diggory, Fleur Delacour, and Viktor Krum as those who would compete.

"Potter must've cheated somehow," Miles sneered. "Of course he'd find a way to enter."

"How could he have done that, though?" I asked, thinking back to Fred and George's unfortunate consequences of having tried.

"Maybe he had an older student put his name in," Annie offered. The rest of us jumped with surprise, none of us having noticed the shorter girl joining our ranks.

"Who are you again?" asked Lucian, but luckily I spoke at the same time.

"I can't believe that would get past Dumbledore's enchantments, though." I flashed Lucian a sideways glance. "Dumbledore's too good to get fooled by that."

"What can I say, the bloke's getting old." Lucian shrugged. "Probably not as sharp as he once was."

I frowned, wondering just how Potter had pulled it off. It wasn't fair—if younger students were to be accepted into the Tournament, I wanted my name to have been considered, that prize money lingering in the back of my mind.

"Just for once, can something exciting happen to the rest of us?" Jamie complained. "Potter's had his share of adventures in his time here. Time to share a little, if you ask me."

I laughed, imagining Potter might share similar feelings.

* * * * * *

The first snow of the season fell that night, a bit early but nonetheless welcome, a fresh white blanket spread across the grounds.

With no classes that day and most of my homework already finished, I wandered out of the common room with the idea that I might dig my broom out of the broom cupboard and go for a fly. 

I wrapped my scarf around my neck and stepped out of the castle, hands deep in my pockets. As I neared the courtyard, a ruckus drew my attention—someone was yelling.

Out in the courtyard, Gregory Goyle stood bellowing obscenities as he was attacked relentlessly by an onslaught of snowballs from every direction, unable to figure out who was behind the snowy siege.

I covered my laugh with a mittened hand, joining the small crowd who had gathered to watch.

"Alright, Goyle?" I called, my expression one of innocence.

"THESE—BLOODY—AUGHH!" he roared, attempting to bat away the snowballs as they hurtled at his face. With a final yell of rage, he stomped off, and the attack came to an end.

Fred and George popped out from where they'd been hiding, wearing wide grins.

"What did he do to deserve that?" I asked with a laugh, approaching them.

"What didn't he do?" Fred countered, making George snicker.

"Fair enough," I sighed. Goyle had a reputation as a nasty bully, even to his fellow Slytherins, and I felt no need to defend him. Then I grinned. "It's good to see you two looking young again."

George snorted. 

Fred, on the other hand, looked a little miffed. 

"And it's good to see you back on your feet," he shot back. "I seem to recall you having some difficulty standing."