The Goblet Of Fire - Hermione Granger x OC

Strengths

Oliver walked into Moody's office with a sense of unease. He was partially fond of the former Auror, yet another part of him was utterly terrified of the man.

Moody sat down in his chair and started taking off his prosthetic leg, prompting Oliver to look in shock.

"Oh, that's much better," Moody remarked with a small smile, placing his prosthetic leg on the table.

Moody then began looking into a mirror placed in front of him, a mischievous gleam in his eye. "That's a foe glass," he said, pointing to the reflective surface. "It let's me keep an eye on my enemies. If I can see the whites in their eyes, they're standing right behind me!"

Moody erupted into uncontrollable laughter, his amusement resonating throughout the room. His joy seemed infectious, but Oliver couldn't shake off an underlying feeling of unease.

As the laughter subsided, an unexpected commotion emerged from behind Moody. The chest positioned just yards away suddenly started shaking violently, accompanied by haunting screams that pierced the air. Oliver's heart raced with terror, his mind struggling to comprehend what exactly was happening.

"I wouldn't even bother telling you what's in there. You wouldn't believe me if I did," Moody said with a discerning tone. He scooted his seat closer to Oliver, leaning in as if to share a confided secret. "Now... what are you going to do about your dragon?"

Oliver's eyes widened in shock, a mixture of disbelief and anxiety filling his expression. "My what?!"

"Your dragon! The first task!" Moody exclaimed, unable to contain his frustration. The urgency in his voice emphasized the seriousness of the situation.

Oliver's puzzled expression remained, his mind racing to grasp the words that had just been spoken. The thought of a dragon truly caught him off guard, leaving him unsure of what to do or how to proceed.

"Don't tell me you haven't figured out the first task yet. What kind of champion are you?!" Moody's annoyance was palpable, as he observed Oliver's bewildered state.

Oliver remained silent, unsure of what to say in response. Moody, let out an audible sigh, his frustration evident as he kicked out a tiny stool from the other side of the room. "Sit," he commanded.

Oliver slowly made his way towards the stool and settled down onto it, keeping his gaze fixed on Moody. The room grew silent, the only sound being the faint ticking of an old grandfather clock in the corner.

Moody leaned forward, his sharp gaze fixating on Oliver's face. "Well, Oliver," he said, breaking the silence, "spoiler alert: the first task involves retrieving an egg from a dragon."

"Are you serious?!"

Moody nodded firmly. "Dead serious," he confirmed. He took a moment, then continued. "Now listen to me, Montclair. Your brother Henry has always possessed an uncanny knack for turning something simple like a whistle into a complex timekeeping device that could serenade you with an accurate tune based on your age. And let me make it clear, Miss Delacour is about as much of a princess as I am. As for Krum, his exterior may seem dense, but don't underestimate the cunning of Karkaroff, his mentor. Together, they will undoubtedly have a well-devised strategy."

Oliver looked down at the floor, unsure of how to respond yet again. The weight of Moody's words hung heavy in the air, causing a swirl of doubt and insecurity to surface within him. He couldn't help but question his own abilities in comparison to the formidable competitors he was about to face.

"AHHHH!" Moody let out a frustrated scream before closing the gap between himself and Oliver, emphasizing the urgency. "Come on, Montclair, what are your strengths?"

Oliver's nervousness caused his words to stumble out hesitantly. "I... I don't know... I mean... I guess I can fly somewhat," he admitted, his voice lacking confidence.

Moody's expression softened slightly, realizing the uncertainty in Oliver's tone. "Better than nothing," he responded with a reassuring smile.

Oliver's doubts resurfaced, his face creased with worry. "But I don't think I'm allowed a broom," he said wistfully, thinking of his limited options.

Moody's smile widened, his eyes gleaming with a hint of mischief. "You're allowed a wand."