Forsaken Bloodlines {HP x GOT}

Chapter 4.8: The Goblet of Fire

As Lyanna, still trying to keep her mind off of earlier events, and Hermione, Ron, and Harry sat in the Great Hall, watching students drop their names into the Goblet of Fire, the atmosphere buzzed with excitement and anticipation. Lyanna and Hermione sat side-by-side, discussing a book Hermione was reading.

"Eternal Glory," Ron mused aloud. "It'd be brilliant, wouldn't it, three years from now when we're old enough, to be chosen?"

Harry shook his head with a grin. "Better you than me."

Lyanna added with a hint of sarcasm, "That is if you have a death wish."

Just then, Fred and George Weasley strode forth, looking very pleased with themselves. They were holding twin vials, their faces lit up with mischief.

"Well, we've done it, lads," Fred announced.

"Cooked it up this morning," George added, holding up the vials.

Hermione's eyes narrowed as she looked at them. "It's not going to work," she said in a sing-song voice.

"Yeah? And why's that, Granger?" George challenged.

"Because a genius like Dumbledore couldn't possibly be fooled by a dodge..." Hermione started.

"...as pathetically dim-witted as an Aging Potion," Lyanna finished, smirking.

Fred and George shared a knowing look. "That's what makes it so brilliant. It's pathetically dim-witted," Fred said.

Lyanna and Hermione exchanged a glance, then urged, "Go on, then."

With a dramatic flair, Fred and George tipped a gooey green liquid onto their tongues. "Ready, Fred?" George asked.

"Ready, George," Fred replied.

As one, they crossed the golden line encircling the Goblet of Fire and dropped their names into it. Everyone held their breath, waiting. Fred and George grinned, high-fived each other, and then... were ejected high into the air, landing flat on their backs. Little white beards sprouted on their chins.

Laughter erupted around the hall, including from Fred and George, who took it in good humor. But slowly, the laughter died down as the students noticed Viktor Krum approaching the Goblet. A hush fell over the crowd.

Viktor dropped his name into the Goblet, his movements deliberate and confident. He glanced briefly at Lyanna and Hermione, then lowered his head and slouched away. Lyanna watched him go, concern etched on her face. She excused herself from her friends and followed Viktor out of the hall.

Outside, she caught up with him. "Viktor," she called, her voice echoing in the corridor.

He stopped and turned to face her, his expression unreadable.

"Why are you entering this tournament?" she asked, her voice tinged with frustration. "Eternal glory is not worth risking your life for."

Viktor's gaze hardened. "You don't understand, Lyanna. You can't relate to me anymore. We have grown differently these past few years."

Lyanna felt a pang of hurt but pushed it aside. "Well, it'll all be for nothing if you end up dead," she retorted.

Viktor's expression softened slightly. "It's not about glory for me. It's about proving myself. To my school, to my family, and to myself."

Lyanna shook her head. "You don't have to prove anything to anyone, Viky. You're already a star. People already look up to you."

"But they don't see the real me," he replied quietly. "They see a Quidditch player, a champion. They don't see the person behind it all."