➥COMPLETED
Samira Diggory had it all. Her boyfriend being the star Chaser of the Ravenclaw Quidditch team, her grades on top, her appearance blowing every boy out of their socks, and the jealous glances of her female classmates for guarantee, s...
The bustling noises around them, Samira did barely hear. Her skin tingled where he touched her and her heart beat erratically in her chest, so hard that she thought it might fly out. There were butterflies — no, lions — in her chest, but it felt good.
"Well, I've a wild imagination", George said, returning from the Three Broomstick's counter with two glasses of butterbeer, "but I for sure never have dreamt of guessing that Samira Diggory could be a Triwizard champion."
"Oh yes, people are suggesting I would fear about breaking one of my nails or stuff like that, but the Goblet of Fire wouldn't have chosen me, if he wasn't perfectly aware I know a spell to fix this", Samira replied, her voice sounding as casual as possible, considering it was indeed George Weasley sitting on the opposite of this wooden table.
She curled her fingers into the palm of her hand, not even feeling them dig in. If she didn't fancy this guy she'd be funny and flirtatious, since she did her mouth was full of sawdust and her brain was malfunctioning as much as if she were drunk.
"But why did you get your name in?", George asked, and he seemed absolutely interested about it. "I'm not the only one wondering about this, to be honest. You're known by the whole population of Hogwarts, but not for being keen on fighting dragons. More of for being Ced—"
"Cedric's sister, I know", Samira replied, frowning. "I was so sick of it. I would have to lie, if I'd say I didn't want the attention and the glory, but ... Well, I don't care much about what our classmates or teachers think about me. But it sucks to always be compared with your brother."
George laughed. "Don't know what you mean", he said, his eyes glimming with amusement, and it took Samira a second to realise that he was not making fun of her. For a brief moment, she had utterly forgotten about Fred, and that George, like herself, was a twin.
"You can't really compare this", she chugged, "because Fred and you are equal in every aspect. You even have the same grades! Both Beaters, both popular. All the same way. But I ... See, Ced's the golden boy in my family. He's captain of the Quidditch team, I am not. He's prefect, I am not. Though our grades are equally good, my parents, especially my father, never recognises my successes, because Cedric is one step ahead in everything. The classes he chose for his NEWTs are more relevant than mine, blah blah blah." She sighed, giving her eyes a roll. "For once, I wanted to proof my worth, I wanted to do something that only me was capable to succeed. That's why I threw my name into the goblet. I want to win this tournament."
As she was done ranting, she would have expected George to snort a snarky laughter, maybe roll his warm brown eyes, because she was sounding so overdramatic, it even felt exorbitant to herself. But George's features softened, as he leaned forward, his crossed arms laid onto the table.
"My eldest brother was head boy. He's a curse breaker in Egypt now, so I won't have to tell you about his perfect NEWT exams", George explained. "Charlie was Captain of the Quidditch team, prefect and always in the top three of every class. He graduated with top grades and is now working in the dragon sanctuary in Romania. And don't forget about Percy. The second head boy in the family, now the personal assistant of Bartemius Crouch, and made the best NEWT graduation this school had seen since Dumbledore himself was a student here. Overly ambitious, this git." Now he snorted this snarky laughter Samira had expected of him before. "Fred and me are being compared all the time. I mean, either of us has three OWLs, that's not even approximately the results my family is used to. We don't intend to work for the ministry or any academical stuff after graduation. We want to run a joke shop, and I can tell you my mum is yelling 'why can't you be more like your brothers' at least once a week during summer break, and in every howler we received since we started Hogwarts." His eyes fixated hers, and she couldn't avoid to swallow thickly at this view. "We wanted to get into this tournament for the very same reasons than you did. Okay, and to earn the money to open our shop", he added with a chuckle. "Mainly because of the money. But it also would have been nice to have succeeded in something our brothers couldn't and never would. Because even if we had become prefects or Dumbledore would suffer a stroke and make one of us head boy, then it wouldn't be anything special, as either Bill, Charlie and Percy had already done it."
Samira nodded, not knowing what to say. Finally she found her voice, quiet though, and muttered, "At least your parents love you. I've seen you lots often enough, when your mum and dad picked you up at King's Cross. They love you, and I don't really think they're disappointed in you, like my dad is in me."
"They aren't", George agreed. "Though mum might thinks we're wasting our talents on stupid things, she has our back, as well as dad. But let's be honest, your father isn't disappointed in you as well."
"Oh, he is, you should have seen his reaction when I didn't get the prefects' badge." Scowling, Samira glared at the table.
"It doesn't matter anymore", said George, reaching over the table to take Samira's hand. "Because you will win this. I know it. And he will be the proudest a father could be. You'll see."
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