There once was a girl.
She was sweet like a baby.
But you fucked her up.
Made her think she was crazy.
I'm that girl.
But I look different lately.
Cos now I'm a monster.
The monster you made me.
- Chloe Adams.
Magical Luck has changed, Magical Luck...
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I met her in the summer Down by the golden bay Like flowers in the water I can't forget her face No wonder, she's a stunner And takes my breath away Like flowers in the water She dances in the rain (she dances in the rain)
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Rosalie's thoughts were everywhere, but she was mostly annoyed, but she thankfully got to have a nice thought, running with her dad was the best feeling. It was something that helped her calm down, she also thought of Tom, and hoping he was alright. The twins were close by keeping an eye on her. The two sat a little straighter as their younger brother approached her. "How did you do it?" He asked her. But Rosalie says nothing she was in still so much shock. "Never mind. Doesn't matter. You could have let your best friend know though." Ronald mutters.
Rosalie's train of thought was cut, as she turns her eyes to him with a firm look in her eyes. "Best friend? We aren't even friends Ronald." Rosalie growls. "And why should I tell you anything?" She questioned.
"But we, we are friends." Ronald muttered.
"I didn't ask for this to happen Ronald." Said Rosalie. "Okay?" She finished.
"Yeah, that's me, Ronald Weasley... Not Rosalie's best friend." Ronald stated glaring at her.
"Yes, you aren't my friend, the only friends I have are Neville, Luna, Fred, and George. Also, I didn't put my name in that cup. I don't want bloody eternal glory! I just wanna be... Look, I don't know what happened tonight and I don't know why, it just did alright." Rosalie muttered. "Now piss off." She whispered. Ronald backs away leaving her to the twins.
Fred and George walked over to the pissed off Tribrid, wrapping their arms around her as they tried to sooth the girl. She was teetering off the line of control, her vampire and wolf were thrashing inside her mind, wanting to attack those that had betrayed her. But the twins calmed her down quickly.
"You need some rest sister." Fred whispered. The small Mikaelson sighed, before nodding her head.
"I'll see you both tomorrow." She whispered as she walked away, headed to her room.
A faint, electric crackle filled the air as, with a sudden hush, Rosalie watched the woman materialise amidst a swirling cloud of smoke. The scent was sharp and sweet, tinged with something unfamiliar—almost like burnt sugar mingling with fresh parchment—which hung in the room as the haze curled around her. Rosalie felt the warmth of the smoke brush her skin, sending a shiver down her spine, and her breath caught in her throat as she struggled to process the spectacle. The woman, impeccably groomed and dressed in vibrant, eye-catching fabrics, seemed to command the attention of everyone present. Rosalie's curiosity and a flicker of apprehension tangled together, making her senses crackle with anticipation. "Well, aren't you all a charismatic bunch! Hello there!" the woman greeted, her voice dripping with enthusiasm. Rosalie scowled at Rita Skeeter, her annoyance plain on her face.
The four Triwizard champions are standing together in a group. Rita walks over to them with a confident smile. She extends her hand to each champion in turn, offering a warm, steady handshake and meeting their eyes—some gaze back with curiosity, others with a hint of challenge. The tension and excitement in the air brush against their skin, making the moment feel charged and strangely intimate.
"I'm Rita Skeeter. I write for the Daily Prophet. But of course, you know that, don't you? It's you we don't know—you're the news. What quirks lurk beneath those rosy cheeks? What mysteries do the muscles mask? Does courage lie beneath those curls? In short, what makes a champion tick? Me, myself, and I want to know—not to mention my rabid readers. So, who's feeling up to sharing? Mmm? Shall we start with the youngest? Lovely," she says quickly, before grabbing Rosalie and dragging her away.
The two were soon inside a tiny... tiny broom cupboard.
"This is cosy." Rita says.
Rosalie regarded her with a neutral expression, but her fingers curled tightly at her sides and her heel scraped softly against the cupboard floor. "It is a broom cupboard," she stated, voice steady even as her gaze darted briefly to the door. Beneath her calm exterior, she fought the urge to bolt, every muscle wound tight in silent protest.
"You should feel right at home then," Rita said, her words dripping with implication. The remark made Rosalie growl softly, the sound escaping her lips as she bristled at the comment. "Don't mind if I use the quill, do you?" she asked.
Rosalie bristled, her jaw tightening as she glared at Rita. "I do mind," she said firmly, her voice cool. "I'm a minor and I'm not staying here." She stepped forward, the tension obvious in her clenched fists. "I don't even want to compete," she muttered, more to herself than to Rita. Without waiting for a reply, Rosalie turned on her heel and strode out of the cramped cupboard, leaving Rita sputtering in her wake.
Rita hurried after her, heels clicking frantically on the stone floor as she tried to keep up. "Wait, you simply must—"
Rosalie spun around, eyes blazing. "No! I'm not letting you say disgusting things about me or the people around me." Her voice shook with anger, and her hands trembled slightly at her sides. "So, leave me alone!"
With a final glare, Rosalie flung the door open and slammed it shut behind her, her chest heaving as she put space between herself and Rita's relentless curiosity.
Inside the common room once more, Rosalie looked out the window and glared at the world. Her fists clenched at her sides as she struggled to contain the storm of emotions brewing inside her. Anger pulsed through her, hot and sharp. She turned to see everyone looking at her. "What!" she cried, getting frustrated. Everyone quickly looked away from her and returned to whatever they were doing, pointedly avoiding her gaze. When everyone eventually left to go to bed, Rosalie followed in silence.
Rosalie sat down on her bed and took a deep breath. She was a little over it today. Closing her eyes, she pulled the duvet up to her chin and let the quiet of the dormitory settle around her. She wished everything would be better tomorrow... maybe. The weight of the day pressed down on her chest, making it hard to believe that things could really change. Doubt lingered at the edges of her thoughts, but all she could do now was hope for a gentler morning.
