The Chosen One (MattheoRiddle x Ophelia)

Cʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 6

As the day of the Triwizard Tournament approached, a sense of excitement and anticipation filled the air. The first task was a daunting one, requiring the competitors to retrieve a golden egg from a dragon's nest. As everyone gathered around the long table to discuss the upcoming challenge, Fred and George Weasley appeared, their usual mischievous grins in place.

"So, who do you think will win the first task?" Fred asked, his eyes twinkling with amusement. I reached into my pocket and pulled out my money, ready to place my bet.

"I don't know maybe Harry Potter?"

But before I could do so, George intervened, his eyebrows raised in a challenging manner. "I thought Slytherins hated Gryffindors," he said, his tone teasing. "Or am I wrong, Miss Snape?"

I felt a flush of anger rise to my cheeks at his words. It was true that there was a long-standing rivalry between the two houses, but I refused to be defined by my family's legacy. Instead, I met George's gaze with a steely determination.

"Perhaps in the past, such animosity existed," I said, my voice calm and measured. "But I choose to judge people based on their actions, not their house affiliation. And in this case, I believe that Harry has what it takes to emerge victorious."

My words seemed to stun the room into silence, and even Fred and George looked momentarily taken aback. But then, with a shrug of their shoulders, they grinned once more, clearly amused by my defiance.

"Well said, Miss Snape," Fred said, clapping me on the back. "I suppose we'll just have to see if your prediction comes true."

As the crowd erupted into cheers for their respective champions, I found myself sitting beside Hermione in a large, circular area with wooden benches surrounding it. The Weasley twins were busy collecting bets from the other students in the stand, while I watched the competitors prepare for the first task of the Triwizard Tournament.

"Hey Hermione," I said softly, "I know I'm not that close to you or your trio group, but I'd be ever so pleased if Harry or maybe Cedric emerged victorious," Her eyebrows furrowed with confusion as I continued, "Perhaps I could offer a clue that you may pass on to Harry" With a thoughtful pause, I added, "Well, I heard that dragons are usually quite placid and won't attack unless provoked. However, there's another species that's much more dangerous and can kill in mere seconds. But if you can make them disoriented and confused, you may be able to use it to your advantage." As I spoke, I couldn't help but wonder how these tips would affect the outcome of the tournament

Hermione looked at me with a mixture of surprise and gratitude. "Thank you," she said, her eyes shining with excitement. "I'll make sure to pass this on to Harry. It could be just the thing he needs to win the tournament." With that, she hurried off, her bushy hair bouncing behind her.

Suddenly, I felt a presence observing me, and I knew without a doubt who it was. The infamous Mr. Riddle had taken an interest in me, and I could feel his eyes boring into my very soul.

I could feel his presence growing stronger, like a dark cloud hovering just out of reach. But I refused to let him get the best of me. I would not let him win this game of cat and mouse.

As I felt the weight of his gaze upon me, I turned to face the source of my unease. There he was, perched high up in the stands, his dark eyes piercing through my very soul. I could feel his anger radiating off of him in waves, and I knew without a doubt that he was not pleased.

But as I stood there, frozen in place, a voice suddenly cut through the air, jolting me back to reality. It was my father, his words laced with anger and frustration. "Focus on the task at hand and keep your eyes forward, Ophelia!" he barked, his voice echoing through my whole skull.

With a heavy sigh, I turned back to watch what is currently happening, my mind racing with a thousand thoughts. But even as I worked, I could feel his eyes upon me, watching my every move with a cold, calculating gaze.

As the first task came to a close, everyone returned to their respective dormitories, eager to rest and recover from the day's events. For me, however, there was no rest to be had, no respite from the relentless training that awaited me.

As I made my way up the winding staircase to the astronomy tower, my mind was a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. I couldn't stand the man who awaited me there, couldn't bear the thought of having to obey his every command. My thoughts were lingered how I would stab a knife across his chest and pull out his cold black heart.

And yet, I knew that I had no choice, that I had to push aside my own feelings and do what was necessary to succeed.

As I passed by the Gryffindor common room, I could hear the raucous sounds of laughter and chatter emanating from within. But my attention was quickly drawn away by a sudden, ear-splitting screech that seemed to pierce through my very soul.

For a moment, I was frozen in place, unable to move or think. But as the sound subsided, I shook myself back to reality and continued on my way, my heart pounding in my chest as I prepared for the grueling training that lay ahead.

As I reached the top of the tower, my eyes were immediately drawn to the dark, imposing figure standing before me. He was tall and broad-shouldered, his body clad in a flowing black robe with green stripes that seemed to cling to his muscular frame like a second skin.

As I watched him, I couldn't help but marvel at the sheer perfection of his physique, the way his muscles rippled and bulged beneath the fabric of his robe. He was like a Greek god come to life, his body honed to a state of near-perfection through years of grueling training and discipline.

For a moment, I was lost in admiration, my eyes tracing the contours of his powerful back as he stood there, gazing up at the stars above. But as I stepped forward, I knew that I had to push aside my own feelings and focus on the task at hand, to become the best that I could be under his watchful eye.