Griffin Blakes is your average teenage witch attending Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. She is a lot of things... but sneaky is not one of them. So what is she going to tell her three best friends when she starts to fall for the enemy? An...
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{Griffin}
y e a r 4
"HARRY POTTER?" The chatter died down, shifting to confused murmurs as students looked towards Professor Dumbledore's direction. Cedric Diggory had just left the room with the other Triwizard Tournament Champions, leading me to lose nearly eighty percent of my interest in the ordeal. We were about ready to leave for the Gryffindor common room when the grand goblet's bright blue fire morphed into a blazing red.
"Harry Potter!" our headmaster called again, this time with more intensity, his eyes jumping through the crowd in search of a certain shaggy haired, wide eyed boy who happened to be seated right next to me.
Hermione and I exchanged nervous glances, and I caught a brief glimpse at Ron's gaping expression. On a normal day I probably would have giggled at that, but instead I found myself shifting uncomfortably where I sat.
At this rate, almost everyone's gaze had settled on the front corner of the bleachers, where my best friends and I resided.
Clearing my throat, I lightly nudged Harry's shoulder. "Go," I whispered to him. Harry did not go, but instead started shrinking behind me in a lame attempt to hide. Hermionie's eyebrows raised as she, too, felt pressure from the audience.
"Go on Harry," she spoke in a small but firm voice. When our best friend's blank expression did not change she let out an agitated sigh. "Harry, for goodness sake," she nervously bit her lip, pushing Harry to his feet and directing him to the center of the room before sitting back down beside me.
"What was that about?" she whispered into my ear.
"I have no idea. It's... theoretically impossible for his name be chosen -he couldn't have even passed the age line," I hastily responded.
Both of us were on the edge of our seats, watching intently as Dumbledore shot a daggered glare at Harry. Reluctantly, he shoved the burnt up paper into the teenager's hands -striking further confusion in Harry. I could tell he was debating whether to follow after the other tournament champions as he looked around the room and slowly made his way up the aisle.
"He's a cheat!" a Slytherin boy hollered from one of the tables. "He's not even seventeen yet!" another voice egged on. I gravitated to the sounds, not at all surprised to find them belonging to the boys in Malfoy's click.
Ron scoffed and leaned forward, "How do you reckon Harry pulled this one off?"
I frowned. "Well isn't it obvious? Harry couldn't have possibly put his own name in the Goblet of Fire. Someone else must've done it-"
"Oh really? Who else would want the famous Harry Potter to receive any more attention. Like is 'Chosen One' not enough?"
"Ron," Hermionie warned, but I recognized doubt swimming in her eyes.
When I looked back, Harry was gone and the professors were speaking amongst themselves. "This is a load of bollocks!" George, one of Ron's older brothers, stood up smirking.
"Yeah!" supported his twin brother, Fred. "How is it fair Harry broke the age line and managed to get chosen while us two were stuck shedding white hairs for almost three days?"
Numerous students began laughing while I simply rolled my eyes. Of course, leave it to the Weasley twins to make a joke in the middle of a tension-filled environment.
"Alright, that's enough; everyone off to your houses!" Professor McGonagall shooed her hands at the crowd of students before hurrying off with the rest of Hogwarts' teachers.
"So you don't think it was Harry?" Ron pondered in a normal volume while people started flooding out of the Great Hall.
I simply shrugged, knowing he disagreed and not wishing to insinuate an argument. "I dunno, we'll have to ask Harry before jumping to any conclusions," I carefully stated, standing up and brushing out my wrinkly skirt.
I have got to remember to iron them out next time.
"I agree with Griffin. We should just wait and see what Harry has to say about it. I mean, you saw his face," Hermionie said. "He was positively mortified."
The ginger-haired boy looked down, mumbling something I did not hear before shuffling into the hallway.
"Do you think he's alright?" my best friend linked arms with me as we trailed shortly behind Ron.
"I hope so. It was pretty intense being put on the spot like that... but I'm more worried about whether they'll actually allow him to participate in the tournament. Some people have been known to die in these things."
Hermionie gulped, feeling guilty for those thoughts not occurring to her sooner.
"Sorry, um," she lowered her voice, "I meant Ron."
I glanced at her and smiled slightly. "Oh! Yeah- no, he'll be alright. Probably just a bit hurt because he thinks Harry didn't confide in us." Up ahead, I heard the distinct voices of Fred and George laughing, along with a vivid Ron yelling at them to stop between chuckles. "I'm sure they'll hash it out and be best buddies by tomorrow."
•••
Silently chewing on my blueberry waffles, I watched on as Harry and Ron ignored each other through the breakfast hour. Although this new predicament was quite amusing, Hermionie found it rather exhausting to attempt making conversation. Instead she chose to fill the awkward silence by reading us articles from the Daily Prophet, which I would comment on occasionally.
As soon as we successfully developed a semi-functional conversation, forgetting just how awkward the meal had been, Ron abruptly pushed his plates away and stormed out of the Great Hall.
"Alright spill it, what happened last night?" I demanded.
"Yes, why did you guys not make up?"
"I don't even understand why he's upset!" Harry fumed, running a hand through his hair and taking a -surprisingly aggressive- bite of toast.
Hermione sighed, "He doesn't understand why you didn't tell us about putting your name in the Goblet of Fire." Harry and I exchanged a hesitant glance. "What?" she asked innocently.
"I didn't," Harry dead-panned, mouth half stuffed of food. She pursued her lips, clearly trying to calculate the possible scenarios that occurred for Harry's name to be called from the cup.
"Well if you didn't, then who did?"
He was obviously offended because he started to pick up his bag, shaking his head, "What is this, an interrogation? You think if I had any desire to be a- a Hogwarts' Champion that I would keep it to myself and not tell you lot?"
Hermionie looked like she regretted her words as he continued, "Let's just get one thing clear. I never put my name in. I don't know who did and I never had any intention of being a part of this tournament. But," Harry hesitated, looking around before continuing, "now they're making me."
"What?" Hermionie and I spoke out simultaneously.
"No," I took in a sharp breath, "You're only fourteen... surely that's a factor worthy for disqualification."
He shook his head grimly, "This is magic we're talking about. Apparently I'm under some sort of bind because of the goblet. I have to compete."
-Pls don't be a silent reader, all support means sm to me<3 Excited for this story to unfold & to show how Griffin fits in to make the Golden Four
