From Here on Out: Story of a Triwizard Champion

IV

It was the second of October, and a dark cloud covered the sky above the castle. Elspie had woken earlier in the morning than usual, and from the nightstand next to her bed, her untouched copy of 'All you need to know for the Triwizard Tournament' stared at her. There was no point in reading it, she knew. She was still under the impression that she would not be chosen, and even her best friend, who had been studying non-stop since they got the books, could not get that idea out of her head.

Atop the book sat a letter. It had arrived last night, addressed to her from her parents- though she knew only her father had written it- and she had left it there, not bothering to read it. It seemed horrid that she would ignore her parents, but she couldn't deal with any updates from them now. Already she had too much on her mind.

After changing into her robes and brushing out her untamable curls, she made her way down to the Great Hall alone for breakfast, not bothering to wait for Heidi. She was a late riser, and Elspie was famished. When she entered the Great Hall, she dragged her feet to the Slytherin table and took a seat, grabbing food from whatever plates were layed out in front of her. When she had finished eating, she rested her head on the table, realizing how much she had actually eaten, and regretting it immensely.

"Good morning sleepy head," She heard a familiar voice say, feeling a bump next to her. Grant had slid in beside her, stealing the last remaining piece of bacon from Elspie's plate and eating it. She groaned, yawning.

"Go to your own table," She grumbled, wiping slobber from her face. Of all the reasons she figured boys had never liked her, the fact that she could never care less about her appearance was probably one of them.

"Oh, but then I wouldn't get to tell you about-" He began, before she lifted her arm up and pressed her hand against his mouth, her eyes still closed. Without thinking, he licked her hand, and she muttered, 'yuck,' wiping it across his arm as he chuckled.

"As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted," He continued, taking another piece of bacon from the plate in the center of the table. "I had quite the interaction with Vincent today." He told her, downing the piece of bacon he had just taken. "Right before I came in here, actually. Would you like to know more about it?" He asked, raising his brows, though her head was still turned away.

"No," She mumbled.

"Of course you do! Well, you see, he was telling me something about how a mud–"

Elspie's head snapped up, knowing what he was about to say. She hated the name, even when Grant used it casually to tell her stories. She narrowed her brows in a slight scowl.

"Sorry," Grant said, giving her an apologetic smile. "He was saying how a muggle-born witch had no business in being possibly selected as a champion. Does he know any greeting phrases? A 'good morning' perhaps? Anyways, as he was saying this, Professor Pettican happened to be passing through the hallway behind us. He took him by the ear and dragged him down the hallway to McGonagall's office."

The scowl on Elspie's face slowly turned into a smirk. "Do you think they'll replace him?" She asked curiously, the thought popping into her head. She knew McGonagall did not tolerate such behavior, but it would upset his father, a powerful and influential wizard, and they couldnt have that.

"I don't know," Grant said, shrugging as he shoved more bacon down his throat. "I hope so."

***

The following night, Elspie sat on her bed, turning the letter over and over in her hands. Everyone else had gone to sleep, but the candle on her nighstand was still lit, and she could just barely see the writing on it. She hadnt brung herself to open it yet. It was too late at night, and the thought of reading what her father had written overwhelmed her. As quietly as she could, she ripped open the letter, looking it over before she began to read it.

Dear Elspeth,
Your mother has gotten worse. She hardly opens her eyes these days, and I figure it is only a matter of time. I wish you could be here, though I know you have a life to live there. Sometimes I wish you had not been giften with powers, and that you might be here with me. I know it is a selfish thought, but my heart aches for you. Please write back to me soon. I love you dearly,
Love, Da

Elspie wiped the tears from the corners of her eyes, feeling her heart clench. She was right not to have read the letter, she told herself. All it had held was the fact that her mother would die soon, and that her father wished she were a muggle. It seemed she could never please anyone. Though she had never been particularly close with her mother, she was still her mother, and just thinking about her passing brought even more tears to her eyes. She fought to keep her sobs in and tucked the letter under her pillow, wiping the tears across her face as she blew out the candle and tucked her face into her quilt to mask her crying.