"If it doesn't challenge us, we won't survive."
The year is 1995 and the Triwizard Tournament is back but this year isn't like any other. Competition is fierce at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry following the selection of the champions...
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By Monday, Chelsea found things beginning to settle in her life. The final task was months away, and all that mattered were the upcoming O.W.L exams. At breakfast, when the post owls arrived, she watched Hermione look up eagerly; she seemed to be expecting something. A gray owl was soaring down toward Hermione. But to her bewilderment, the gray owl landed in front of her plate, closely followed by four barn owls, a brown owl, and a tawny. Harry and Ron also bewildered, clearly not expecting this either.
"Oh really!" she sputtered, going rather red in the face. Anger flashing in her eyes.
"What's up?" said Ron.
"It's — oh how ridiculous —" She thrust the letter at Harry, who saw that it was not handwritten but composed from pasted letters that seemed to have been cut out of the Daily Prophet. Fred, Elisabeth, George, and Chelsea all gasped at the sight of the letter, having gone to check on the angered girl.
YOu aRe a WickEd giRL. HarRy PotTER desErves BeTteR. GO BaCk wherE you cAMe fRoM mUGgle.
"They're all like it!" said Hermione desperately, opening one letter after another. " 'Harry Potter can do much better than the likes of you... ''You deserve to be boiled in frog spawn...'Ouch!"
She had opened the last envelope, and yellowish-green liquid smelling strongly of petrol gushed over her hands, which began to erupt in large yellow boils.
"Undiluted bubotuber pus!" said Ron, picking up the envelope gingerly and sniffing it.
"Ow!" said Hermione, tears starting in her eyes as she tried to rub the pus off her hands with a napkin, but her fingers were now so thickly covered in painful sores that it looked as though she were wearing a pair of thick, knobbly gloves. Elisabeth escorted the hurt fourth year, comforting her as they left the Great Hall.
"You'd better get up to the hospital wing," said Harry as the owls around Hermione took flight. "We'll tell Professor Sprout where you've gone..."
Chelsea's heart ached to watch her friend get her. Chelsea looked around to see if she could find the culprits. But her search was useless.
Transfigurations passed without incident, leaving Chelsea smiling as if it were Christmas morning. During her study, she found herself sitting next to Fred, alone for the first time in months. Charles and the other Ilvermorny kids were still in classes, George had gone to study with Angelina Johnson. Those two were growing closer by the day, Elisabeth claiming to have seen the ogling one another during potions once. Elisabeth had gone to rest, fatigued be a headache that relentlessly tormented her since the early hours of the morning.
"I think McGonagall made a mistake in teaching us the Gemini spell." Fred laughed as he read further on in the scrolls before him. "George and I could seriously cause some damage with this spell. Can you imagine adding this to the various products we have in mind?"
