Beatrice Lestrange has always been an outsider in her own story. Born into one of the darkest families in the wizarding world, she grew up under the looming shadow of her infamous mother Bellatrix Lestrange.
Despite this, Beatrice is nothing like th...
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Beatrice sighed as she left her classroom, feeling a mix of exhaustion and frustration. Nigel, one of the younger Gryffindors, had all but sprinted up to her moments ago, his face alight with a strange excitement, telling her she had to hurry to some "official champions' photo."
Reluctantly, she made her way to the small classroom Nigel had mentioned, her thoughts racing. She wasn't in the mood to pose for pictures, let alone endure another round of judgmental stares or awkward silences from the other champions.
As she pushed open the creaky wooden door, the chatter inside abruptly ceased. The room was small and stuffy, lit by a few enchanted lamps and a large window that let in the pale afternoon light. Her fellow champions were already there: Cedric, Harry, Viktor Krum, and Fleur Delacour. Along with them stood Ludo Bagman, his usual jovial smile plastered on his face, and a few members of the press, including the ever-persistent Rita Skeeter.
— Ah, Miss Lestrange, finally joining us! — Ludo called, clapping his hands together. His grin widened, though it faltered slightly as her expression made it clear she was not amused. — We're just about to get started with the photos and the wand weighing ceremony. Come on in! —
Beatrice hesitated in the doorway, her eyes quickly scanning the room. Cedric offered her a kind smile, but Harry's nervous expression mirrored her own discomfort. Fleur, looking as ethereal as ever, raised an eyebrow at Beatrice's arrival, and Viktor simply stood there, looking stoic and uninterested.
— Wonderful, — Rita Skeeter chimed in, stepping forward with her quick-quotes quill hovering eagerly at her side. Her bright red lipstick curled into a predatory smile. — Now we have all our champions. This will be perfect for my piece—'The Stunning Cinderella of Hogwarts: Beatrice Lestrange, the Dark Horse of the Triwizard Tournament.' —
Beatrice simply ignored her as she rolled her eyes and walked towards Cedric, who gave a tiny smile.
— Before we start! May I have a word with Beatrice in private? I already did with the other champions! I would not like to exclude her.— Rita looked at Ludo with pity eyes, he of course nodded and Bea had to go with Rita, even though she didn't want to.
Beatrice sighed heavily, rolling her eyes as she stepped away from the group. The photo session had been grating enough, but now she was expected to endure a private audience with Rita Skeeter? She caught Cedric's gaze as she passed him, and he gave her a tiny, sympathetic smile.
— Go easy on her, —Cedric whispered with a chuckle, earning a faint smirk from Beatrice.
Rita was already waiting by the door, her quick-quotes quill poised and ready, the same predatory gleam in her eyes that made Beatrice's skin crawl.
— Oh, don't look so glum, darling! — Rita cooed, her saccharine tone doing little to mask her smugness. — This is just a quick chat, a little insight for my readers. Nothing to worry about.—
