What Goes Up, Must Come Down #Wattys2016

Chapter 5: And I Thought Vincent Crabbe was Dumb

After a couple weeks of torture, the two schools that were coming finally arrived. They were Beauxbatons and Durmstrang. Only the 17 year old's came, as (according to my stupid father) the tri-wizard tournament was too dangerous, and only people of age could compete. Stupid ministry.

All of Hogwarts gathered outside of the school, waiting impatiently for their arrival. I, sadly, am placed next to one of the Weasley twins. I cant tell if it was Fred, or...Greg, is it? Garrett? Wait...George! Yes, George, that's it! So I am placed next to either Fred or George Weasley. To my left, stands a tall, dark skinned boy with short, messy hair. He has a red and yellow scant tied loosely around his neck.

Stupid Gryffindors.

"Oi, Ravenclaw!" Fred/George Weasley says to me. "It's Cass, right?" Thank God someone finally called me Cass, and not Cassiopeia! This guy may be a blood traitor, but he's a smart one, that's for sure.

"Yeah. Who might you be?"

"I," The twin begins. "Am George Weasley. Blood traitor, and Gryffindor." He snorts. "Why would you; Cassiopeia Rose Crouch, be talking to a guy like me?"

What. The. Heck. "That's not my middle name..."

George shrugs. "You look like a Cassiopeia Rose. What is it then?"

"Like I'd tell a filthy blood traitor like you."

George just beams, like I had just said he won the Nobel Peace Prize, instead of me just calling him a flthy blood traitor.

Just as he opens his mouth to speak, I spot something flying in the sky, staring at us. "IT'S A DRAGON!!!!!!" Screams some Ravenclaw first year.

"No, it's a flying house!" Yells a first year Gryffindor. They were both incorrect. It's a chariot-like house thingy being pulled by pegasus's. That's a little weird, if you ask me. This is obviously Beauxbatons. What other school would be have this fancy of a chariot?

We wait anxiously for Durmstrangs arrival. They end up sailing a ship from underwater. We got to see some of the people later, during the feast. Viktor Krum, the seeker for the Bulgarian Quidditch team, is still in school, and attends Durmstrang! I was blown away at that bit of knowledge, and immediately wrote it down in my notebook, along with Georges assumptions on my middle name, which was Joselyn, a name I am sure he will never guess.

The headmaster of Durmstrang, Igor Karkroff, was the one to turn in my brother for torturing Frank and Alice. Hypocrite. He was a death eater too. I'll make sure he won't forget that. Good thing I wrote down the cruciatus curse's effect...

During the feast, Dumbledore announced the person-well, thing that would be selecting the champions. It was a cup. A stupid cup. Well, technically, it's the Goblet of Fire, but it's still a cup. It lacks the intelligence of the human brain, and seems completely incapable of picking a champion.

I always knew Dumbledore was a nutter.

But my dad also agreed with the procedures.

Okay, I hate my dad, don't get me wrong, but he was a Ravenclaw. I thought he was suppose to be smart.

Dumbledore announced then that anyone 17 and older that chooses to compete must enter their name in the next 24 hours. Then, the next day, the champions will be chosen.

While the people younger than 17 are complaining their butts off about not getting to enter, I'm actually quite relieved. Though it may be cool to get to compete, I honestly don't want to die at age 14, so I'll pass, thanks.

Those stupid Gryffindors WONT SHUT THEIR FREAKING MOUTH about not getting to enter! It's driving me to my last nerve! They even manage to make Potions class (my favorite subject) annoying with all their whining. Seriously guys, complaining isn't going to change my father's mind.

But, I have bigger problems than a bunch of 17 year old wannabes. After standing next to George Weasley, he is now convinced that we are now friends.

And I thought Vincent Crabbe was dumb.