-Immer Ende-

-Chapter✦ThirtyThree-

✧JUDGEMENT DAY✧

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The days leading up to the pick seemed to make the main hall the current spot of interest, and it grew more popular as is. But Cara was too busy making a tally of who was entering from which school, and sure while she couldn't place her bets on those in other schools all that well—Her prediction could be fair well for America and Hogwarts at the least.

"Eternal glory. Be brilliant, wouldn't it? Three years from now, when we're old enough to be chosen?" Cara chuckled at Ron's words, considering the entire reason for this tournament was to see if it would be wise in returning back for good, if anything this was a trial to see if it fit the ethical standards of the century.

And from her seat a dozen or so paces away, hearing the tortures stories of people getting splinched and worse, then this wouldn't last past this year at all.

But Cara smiled to see Harry glancing uninterestedly towards the goblet of fire, his idea of adventure was sedated entirely. But Romulus nicked her attention off and away, "Missed those two from America—You think you can really do this?"

"Remember what Uncle said? Most magic could be broken down by understanding and mathematics, we're looking for a person who fits the category of earning eternal glory. And perhaps it's a bit biased of me to put myself here, but I really doubt the cup manages anything more than identifying a few key qualities." Cara dwelled into her expiration and Ronan scoffed beside her, his eyes not lifting up from his studies.

"Yeah? And what if it's based on a certain day? All the winners entered on a Thursday, or those who didn't hesitate?" It earned him the attention and wondering eyes of his two siblings. "Yeah, just a thought though."

"That was brilliant! I didn't even think of that Roe!" It caused Cara to grab a fresh sheet from her bag and jot down her ideas. "Hope you have time to finish McGonagal's essay with all this pointless mathematics...It's a killer." He grumbled, knowing full well he was capable of managing a scientific deduction of something as strange as the goblet sitting in front of him.

He just didn't have the interest in going much further than a theory.

"Course, couldn't sleep last night."

"Cara—"

"It's okay Rom, mum's sent me my pillow spray. I'll be out by nine tonight, will be brilliant to get a full night's rest for once." She said with a smile, but it dwindled just as Imara had sauntered her own way in.

And caused both Romulus and Cara to frown simultaneously, while Ronan turned to look at the three entirely. "I don't know why I bother trying to understand you three, every time I think I'm close to a decent conversation—I'm behind in the next one!" He said, slamming his book and pushing himself back against the bleachers.

"Imara was brewing a potion—"

"Not just any potion. Imara, did you not read mother's last owl?" Romulus's question had only earned him a laugh. "I'm not draft enough to actually go through with it, it's for two idiots who are." Her eyes flickered knowingly off towards the entrance, and the sudden cheers had erupted from all sides of the room when both Fred and George had held their potion bottles in the air.

"It's done, lads!" Fred hollered.

"Cooked it up fresh just this morning." George finished, but Cara tilted her head in wonder. Would it possibly work?