When Y/n awoke the next morning the memory of the previous night rolled over him and he sat up rubbing his eyes with a deep frustrated sigh. He stayed like that for a few moments before he ripped back the curtains of his own four-poster, intending to talk to Harry and if he could, to speak civilly with Ron. Y/n turned his head to see that Ron's bed was empty however, he had most likely gone down to breakfast.
Harry seemed to stir now as his curtains opened and he saw Y/n. "Where's Ron?" He asked.
"He is not here." Y/n told him moving to let his legs hang off the edge of his bed now.
"Last night our names really were drawn weren't they..." Harry said remembering everything that happened now.
"Yes.." Y/n said getting up and looking out the dormitory window. "And we still have no clue as to who put our names in."
The two then agreed that they would go down to breakfast to try and find Ron or Hermione. So they got dressed and went down the spiral staircase into the common room. The moment they appeared, the people who had already finished breakfast broke into applause again. The prospect of going down into the Great Hall and facing the rest of the Gryffindors, all treating them like a pair of heroes, was not inviting, it was that, however, or stay here and allow themselves to be cornered by the Creevey brothers, who were both beckoning frantically to Y/n and Harry to join them.
Y/n walked forward first as he headed resolutely over to the portrait hole, pushed it open, climbed out of it, and found himself surprised when he was face to face with Hermione as Harry followed him out.
"Hello..." she said, holding up a stack of toast, which she was carrying in a napkin. "I brought you both this...Want to go for a walk?"
"Good idea." said Harry gratefully taking some toast.
Y/n just looked away nodding his head. In truth he had hoped to run into Ron first, He would have found it easier to try and settle the matter with him than Hermione. While he and Harry were innocent Hermione's judgement was not something he wanted to be on the receiving end of, Hermione was truly his closest friend and falling out with her would irritate him more than it had with Ron last night. But would she believe him and Harry?
They went downstairs, crossed the entrance hall quickly without looking in at the Great Hall, and were soon striding across the lawn toward the lake, where the Durmstrang ship was moored, reflected blackly in the water. It was a chilly morning, and they kept moving, Harry and Hermione munching on their toast as Y/n slowly nibbled on his having no real appetite. Instead he told Hermione exactly what had happened after they had left the Gryffindor table the night before and to Y/n's immense relief, Hermione accepted their story without question.
"Well, of course I knew you both hadn't entered yourself." she said when he'd finished telling her about the scene in the chamber off the Hall. "The look on your faces when Dumbledore read out your names! But the question is, who did put it in? Because Moody's right...I don't think any student could have done it...they'd never be able to fool the Goblet, or get over Dumbledore's..."
"Have you seen Ron?" Harry interrupted.
Hermione hesitated.
"Erm... yes... he was at breakfast." she said.
"Does he still think we entered ourselves?" Y/n asked her.
"Well... no, I don't think so... not really." said Hermione awkwardly.
"I see..." Y/n said understanding fully well what she meant but he decided he would not be one to rise quickly to anger. For now they had managed to convince Hermione, that was all that mattered. Ron could be dealt with once he had calmed down.
"What's that supposed to mean, 'not really'?" Harry asked however having not caught on.
"Oh Harry, isn't it obvious?" Hermione said despairingly. "He's jealous!"
"Jealous?" Harry said incredulously. "Jealous of what? He wants to make a prat of himself in front of the whole school, does he?"
"Look." said Hermione patiently. "It's always you two who get all the attention, you know it is. I know it's not your faults." she added quickly, seeing Harry open his mouth furiously and Y/n's brow raising. "I know you don't ask for it... but...well...you know, Ron's got all those brothers to compete against at home, and you're his best friends, and you're both really famous... he's always shunted to one side whenever people see you two, and he puts up with it, and he never mentions it, but I suppose this is just one time too many..."
"Great." said Harry bitterly. "Really great. Tell him from me I'll swap any time he wants. Tell him from me he's welcome to it...People gawping at my forehead everywhere I go..."
"I'm not telling him anything." Hermione said shortly. "Tell him yourself. It's the only way to sort this out. "
"I'm not running around after him trying to make him grow up!" Harry said, so loudly that several owls in a nearby tree took flight in alarm.
"Perhaps he will believe we are not enjoying ourselves once one of us has got our neck broken or..."
"That's not funny Y/n." said Hermione quietly stopping him. "That's not funny at all. " She looked extremely anxious. "Y/n, Harry, I've been thinking...you know what you've both got to do, don't you? Straight away, the moment we get back to the castle?"
"Yeah, give Ron a good kick up the..." Harry began but Hermione cut him off.
"Write to your Grandmother and Sirius. You've got to tell them what's happened." She told them. "Sirius especially Harry, he asked you to keep him posted on everything that's going on at Hogwarts...It's almost as if he expected something like this to happen. I brought some parchment and some quills out with me..."
"Come off it." said Harry, looking around to check that they couldn't be overheard, but the grounds were quite deserted. "He came back to the country just because my scar twinged. He'll probably come bursting right into the castle if I tell him someone's entered me in the Triwizard Tournament..."
"He'd want you to tell him." said Hermione sternly.
"Harry, Hermione is right. Sirius is going to find out anyway." Y/n said seeing her point.
"How is he going to find out?" Harry asked stubbornly.
"Harry, this isn't going to be kept quiet." said Hermione, very seriously. "This tournament's famous, and you're famous. I'll be really surprised if there isn't anything in the Daily Prophet about you and Y/n competing... You're already in half the books about You-Know-Who, you know and Y/n's family name is well know across the Wizarding World...Sirius would rather hear it from you, I know he would."
"Okay, okay, I'll write to him," said Harry, throwing his last piece of toast into the lake. They stood and watched it floating there for a moment, before a large tentacle rose out of the water and scooped it beneath the surface.
Hermione turned to Y/n now. "You will write to your Grandmother, won't you? She's bound to be worried when she hears the news."
Y/n nodded his head. "I shall." Y/n said. "I do not want to cause her any more distress than this whole debacle already will."
The three then returned to the castle.
"Whose owl am I going to use then?" Harry asked as they climbed the stairs. "Sirius told me not to use Hedwig again."
"Ask Ron if you can borrow..." Hermione began.
"I'm not asking Ron for anything." Harry said flatly.
"Well, borrow one of the school owls, then, anyone can use them." said Hermione.
"Could I borrow Hedwig to send my own letter?" Y/n asked Harry. "She's a faster flier than the others."
Harry just nodded as they went up to the Owlery. When they reached it Hermione gave Y/n and Harry each a piece of parchment, a quill, and a bottle of ink. Y/n leaned back against one of the walls as he placed the parchment on his leg and began to write his letter and read it back to himself.
'Dear Grandmother,
I wish I was writing to you with happier news given all that has happened recently. I assure you what I am about to tell you is in no way a practical joke. I have found myself being forced to take part in the upcoming Tri-Wizard tournament. It would seem my own and Harry's names were placed in the Goblet of Fire by an unknown third party, I questioned if we would be allowed to withdraw but was instead informed that we are locked into a magical binding contract. I do not wish you to think that I am attempting something foolish like restoring the family name or seeking riches, I would much rather have watched this tournament from the sidelines...given how that is not an option now I intend to give it my all to ensure my survival. If I do not reply these next few months then please know that it is I'm occupied with this farcical spectacle.
Love Y/n.'
Hermione strolled around the long lines of perches, looking at all the different owls, while Y/n and Harry wrote their letters, When Harry was finished he asked Y/n to secretly look over it while Y/n let him read over his own.
Y/n took Harry's parchment and began to read through it.
'Dear Sirius,
You told me to keep you posted on what's happening at Hogwarts, so here goes. I don't know if you've heard, but the Triwizard Tournament's happening this year and on Saturday night both Y/n and I got picked as a fourth and fifth champions. We don't who put our names in the Goblet of Fire, because neiter of us did so. The other Hogwarts champion is Cedric Diggory, from Hufflepuff.
Hope you're okay, and Buckbeak too. Harry'
"Yes, that will do just fine Harry." Y/n told him handing back Harry his letter as he got his own back and put it in an envelope addressed to his grandmother.
At this, Hedwig fluttered down onto Harry's shoulder and held out her leg.
"I can't use you." Harry told her, looking around for the school owls. "I've got to use one of these. Can you take Y/n's letter instead?"
Hedwig gave a very loud hoot and took off so suddenly that her talons cut into his shoulder. She flew onto Y/n's shoulder but kept her back to Harry who was now tying his letter to the leg of a large barn owl. When the barn owl had flown off, Harry reached out to stroke Hedwig, but she clicked her beak furiously.
"First Ron, then you." Harry said angrily. "This isn't my fault..."
Y/n quietly attached his letter to Hedwig's leg and she flew off without saying goodbye to Harry at all.
If Harry and Y/n had thought that matters would improve once everyone got used to the idea of them being champions, the following day showed them how mistaken they were. Both could no longer avoid the rest of the school once back at lessons, and it was clear that the rest of the school, just like the Gryffindors, thought they had entered himself for the tournament. Unlike the Gryffindors, however, they did not seem impressed.
The Hufflepuffs, who were usually on excellent terms with the Gryffindors, had turned remarkably cold toward the whole lot of them. One Herbology lesson was enough to demonstrate this. It was plain that the Hufflepuffs felt that Y/n and Harry had stolen their champion's glory, a feeling exacerbated, perhaps, by the fact that Hufflepuff House very rarely got any glory, and that Cedric was one of the few who had ever given them any, having beaten Gryffindor once at Quidditch. Ernie Macmillan and Justin Finch Fletchley, with whom Harry normally got on very well, did not talk to him even though they were repotting Bouncing Bulbs at the same tray, though they did laugh rather unpleasantly when one of the Bouncing Bulbs wriggled free from Harry's grip and smacked him hard in the face.
Y/n fared slightly better as he was used to people avoiding him, what was proving to be a problem however was that Ron still wasn't talking to him or Harry either. Hermione sat between Ron and Y/n with Harry sitting on Y/n's other side for a change. Hermione tried making very forced conversation, but though the three answered her normally, they avoided making eye contact with each other.
Harry thought even Professor Sprout seemed distant with him and Y/n, but then, she was Head of Hufflepuff House. He would have been looking forward to seeing Hagrid under normal circumstances, but Care of Magical Creatures meant seeing the Slytherins too, the first time he and Y/n would come face-to-face with them since becoming champions.
Predictably, Malfoy arrived at Hagrid's cabin with his familiar sneer firmly in place. Atticus however looked at Y/n furiously.
"Ah, look, boys, it's the champions." Malfoy said to Crabbe and Goyle the moment he got within earshot of them. "Got your autograph books? Better get a signature now, because I doubt they're going to be around much longer...Half the Triwizard champions have died...how long d'you reckon you're going to last, Potter? Ten minutes into the first task's my bet."
Crabbe and Goyle guffawed sycophantically, but Malfoy had to stop there, because Hagrid emerged from the back of his cabin balancing a teetering tower of crates, each containing a very large Blast-Ended Skrewt. To the class's horror, Hagrid proceeded to explain that the reason the skrewts had been killing one another was an excess of pent-up energy, and that the solution would be for each student to fix a leash on a skrewt and take it for a short walk. The only good thing about this plan was that it distracted Malfoy completely.
"Take this thing for a walk?" he repeated in disgust, staring into one of the boxes. "And where exactly are we supposed to fix the leash? Around the sting, the blasting end, or the sucker?"
"Roun' the middle." said Hagrid, demonstrating. "Er... yeh might want ter put on yer dragon-hide gloves, jus' as an extra precaution, like. Harry, Y/n... you two come here an' help me with this big one..."
Hagrid's real intention, however, was to talk to Y/n and Harry away from the rest of the class. He waited until everyone else had set off with their skrewts, then turned to the pair and said, very seriously, "So...yer competin', In the tournament. School champions..."
"Two of the champions." Harry corrected him.
Hagrid's beetle-black eyes looked very anxious under his wild eyebrows. "No idea who put yeh both in fer it?"
"You believe we didn't do it, then?" said Harry, concealing with difficulty the rush of gratitude he felt at Hagrid's words.
"Course I do." Hagrid grunted. "You's both said it wasn' you, an' I believe yeh...an' Dumbledore believes yer, an' all."
"I just wish we knew who did it." said Y/n bitterly.
They looked out over the lawn now, the class was widely scattered now, and all in great difficulty. The skrewts were now over three feet long, and extremely powerful. No longer shell-less and colorless, they had developed a kind of thick, grayish, shiny armor. They looked like a cross between giant scorpions and elongated crabs, but still without recognizable heads or eyes. They had become immensely strong and very hard to control.
"Look like they're havin' fun, don' they?" Hagrid said happily. Y/n only assumed he was talking about the skrewts, because his classmates certainly weren't, every now and then, with an alarming bang, one of the skrewts' ends would explode, causing it to shoot forward several yards, and more than one person was being dragged along on their stomach, trying desperately to get back on their feet.
"Ah, I don' know." Hagrid sighed suddenly, looking back down at Harry and Y/n with a worried expression on his face. "School champions...everythin' seems ter happen ter yous, doesn' it?"
"A quiet year would be nice..." Y/n said wistfully.
Over then next few days Y/n noticed that Harry' mood was low when walking through the halls. He had not seen Harry so disliked since their second year, when a large part of the school had suspected him of attacking his fellow students.
He could understand the Hufflepuffs' attitude, even if he didn't like it, they had their own champion to support in Cedric. He also expected nothing less than vicious insults that he and Harry received from the Slytherins, they were highly unpopular there and always had been, having helped Gryffindor beat them so often, both at Quidditch and in the Inter-House Championship. But Y/n had thought the Ravenclaws might have found it in their hearts to support Harry at least as much as Cedric. He was wrong, however. Most Ravenclaws seemed to think that Harry had been desperate to earn himself a bit more fame by tricking the goblet into accepting his name.
Then there was the fact that Cedric looked the part of a champion so much more than they did. Exceptionally handsome, with his straight nose and dark hair. It was hard to say who was receiving more admiration these days, Cedric or Viktor Krum.
Harry actually saw the same sixth-year girls who had been so keen to get Krum's autograph begging Cedric to sign their school bags one lunchtime.
Meanwhile there was no reply from Sirius, Hedwig had returned with a letter for Y/n. His Grandmother expressed her shock and anger but assured him that she would cheer him on while willing for his safety.
Professor Trelawney was predicting Harry's death with even more certainty than usual, and he did so badly at Summoning Charms in Professor Flitwick's class that he was given extra homework, the only person to get any, apart from Neville.
"It's really not that difficult, Harry." Hermione tried to reassure him as they left Flitwick's class. She and Y/n had been making objects zoom across the room to her all lesson, as though they were a pair of weird magnets for board dusters, wastepaper baskets, and lunascopes. "You just weren't concentrating properly..."
"Wonder why that was." said Harry darkly as Cedric Diggory walked past, surrounded by a large group of simpering girls, all of whom looked at Y/n and Harry as though they were a particularly large Blast-Ended Skrewt. "Still...never mind, eh? Double Potions to look forward to this afternoon... " He said sarcastically.
Double Potions was always a horrible experience, but these days it was nothing short of torture. Being shut in a dungeon for an hour and a half with Snape and the Slytherins, all of whom seemed determined to punish Y/n and Harry as much as possible for daring to become school champions. Harry had already struggled through one Friday's worth, with Hermione sitting next to him intoning "ignore them, ignore them, ignore them" under her breath, and he couldn't see why today should be any better.
When he, Y/n, and Hermione arrived at Snape's dungeon after lunch, they found the Slytherins waiting outside, each and every one of them wearing a large badge on the front of his or her robes.
For one wild moment Y/n thought they were S. P. E. W. badges, then he saw that they all bore the same message, in luminous red letters that burnt brightly in the dimly lit underground passage.
'SUPPORT CEDRIC DIGGORY, THE REAL HOGWARTS CHAMPION!'
"Like them, Potter?" said Malfoy loudly as Harry approached. "And this isn't all they do... look!" He pressed his badge into his chest, and the message upon it vanished, to be replaced by another one, which glowed green.
'POTTER STINKS!'
The Slytherins howled with laughter. Each of them pressed their badges too, until the message POTTER STINKS was shining brightly all around.
Y/n felt his body begin to heat up now.
"Oh very funny." Hermione said sarcastically to Pansy Parkinson and her gang of Slytherin girls, who were laughing harder than anyone. "Really witty. "
Ron was standing against the wall with Dean and Seamus. He wasn't laughing, but he wasn't sticking up for Harry either.
"Want one, Granger?" said Malfoy, holding out a badge to Hermione. "I've got loads. But don't touch my hand, now. I've just washed it, you see, don't want a Mudblood sliming it up."
Y/n finally had enough as he had reached for his wand. Atticus was quick to respond in doing the same and both boys held out their wands at one another.
People all around them scrambled out of the way, backing down the corridor.
"I am warning you Atticus...Stay, out of this." Y/n said his eyes narrowed and focussed.
"You would like me to step aside wouldn't you? To step aside and leave you free in taking a shot a bringing further shame to our family name!"
"Our name is already in the dirt, It cannot go any lower and if it could the only one who would shame to it is you Atticus!" Y/n shouted at him.
"Look at you, Attempting to win a tournament you have no right being in...If any Grindelwald were to bring honor to its name it would me. Not you, a blood traitor who dotes on a Filthy Mudblood!" Atticus shouted back. "To dare to call yourself a Grindelwald and my brother? I won't have it... I despise you."
Y/n stayed silent but just raised his wand slightly.
"Y/n!" Hermione said warningly.
Before he knew what he was doing Harry had taken out his wand as well now and joined Y/n.
"Go on, then, Potter." Malfoy said quietly, drawing out his own wand. "Moody's not here to look after you now... do it, if you've got the guts..."
For a split second, the two pairs all looked into each other's eyes, and then, at exactly the same time, all four acted.
"Tarantallegra!" Atticus cast but he missed hitting a student in the crowd causing them to burst into dance.
"Incarcerous!" Y/n cried as he conjured ropes from his wand which very quickly began to bind Atticus in place much to his fury.
"Funnunculus!" Harry yelled.
"Densaugeo!" screamed Malfoy.
Jets of light shot from both wands, hit each other in midair, and ricocheted off at angles. Harry's hit Goyle in the face, and Malfoy's hit Hermione. Goyle bellowed and put his hands to his nose, where great ugly boils were springing up. Hermione, whimpering in panic, was clutching her mouth.
"Hermione!" Y/n heard Ron's voice cry out and he turned to see Ron dragging Hermione's hand away from her face. It wasn't a pretty sight. Hermione's front teeth were now growing at an alarming rate, she was looking more and more like a beaver as her teeth elongated, past her bottom lip, toward her chin... panic-stricken, she felt them and let out a terrified cry.
"And what is all this noise about?" said a soft, deadly voice.
Snape had arrived. The Slytherins clamored to give their explanations; Snape pointed a long yellow finger at Malfoy and said, "Explain. "
"Potter and Grindelwald attacked Atticus and I, sir..."
"We attacked each other at the same time!" Harry shouted.
Snape looked to see Y/n had Atticus bound in ropes. "Release him Grindelwald...now."
Y/n reluctantly did so but it was not over yet.
"And Potter hit Goyle, sir...look..." Malfoy continued.
Snape examined Goyle, whose face now resembled something that would have been at home in a book on poisonous fungi.
"Hospital wing, Goyle." Snape said calmly.
"Malfoy got Hermione!" Ron said. "Look!"
He forced Hermione to show Snape her teeth. She was doing her best to hide them with her hands, though this was difficult as they had now grown down past her collar. Pansy Parkinson and the other Slytherin girls were doubled up with silent giggles, pointing at Hermione from behind Snape's back.
Snape looked coldly at Hermione, then said. "I see no difference."
Hermione let out a whimper and her eyes filled with tears, she turned on her heel and ran, ran all the way up the corridor and out of sight.
It was lucky, perhaps, that both Harry, Ron, and Y/n had started shouting at Snape at the same time, lucky their voices echoed so much in the stone corridor, for in the confused din, it was impossible for him to hear exactly what they were calling him. He got the gist, however.
"Let's see." he said, in his silkiest voice. "Seventy five points from Gryffindor and a detention each for Potter, Grindelwald, and Weasley. Now get inside, or it'll be a week's worth of detentions."
Y/n's blood was boiling as he passed Snape, and walked with Harry and Ron to the back of the dungeon, Harry slammed his bag down onto the table looking as angry as Y/n felt. Ron was shaking with anger too and for a moment, it felt as though everything was back to normal between them all, but then Ron turned and sat down with Dean and Seamus instead, leaving Y/n and Harry alone at their table. On the other side of the dungeon, Malfoy turned his back on Snape and pressed his badge, smirking. POTTER STINKS flashed once more across the room.
"Antidotes!" said Snape, looking around at them all, his cold black eyes glittering unpleasantly. "You should all have prepared your recipes now. I want you to brew them carefully, and then, we will be selecting someone on whom to test one..."
Snape's eyes met Harry's, and Harry knew what was coming. Snape was going to poison him. Harry imagined picking up his cauldron, and sprinting to the front of the class, and bringing it down on Snape's greasy head and then a knock on the dungeon door burst in on Harry's thoughts.
It was Colin Creevey, he edged into the room, beaming at Harry, and walked up to Snape's desk at the front of the room.
"Yes?" said Snape curtly.
"Please, sir, I'm supposed to take Harry Potter and Y/n Grindelwald upstairs." Snape stared down his hooked nose at Colin, whose smile faded from his eager face.
"Potter and Grindelwald have another hour of Potions to complete." said Snape coldly. "They will come upstairs when this class is finished."
Colin went pink. "Sir... sir, Mr. Bagman wants them." he said nervously. "All the champions have got to go, I think they want to take photographs..."
Y/n pinched the bridge of his nose at Colin saying those last few words.
Harry chanced half a glance at Ron, but Ron was staring determinedly at the ceiling.
"Very well, very well." Snape snapped. "Potter, Grindelwald leave your things here, I want you both back down here later to test your antidotes."
"Please, sir...they've got to take their things with him." squeaked Cohn. "All the champions. . . "
"Very well!" said Snape. "Potter... Grindelwald...take your bags and get out of my sight!"
Harry swung his bag over his shoulder, got up, and headed for the door. As he walked through the Slytherin desks, POTTER STINKS flashed at him from every direction.
"It's amazing, isn't it?" said Colin, starting to speak the moment Harry and Y/n had closed the dungeon door behind them. "Isn't it, though? You both being champions?"
"Yeah, really amazing." said Harry heavily as they set off toward the steps into the entrance hall.
"What do they want photos for, Colin?" Y/n asked now still angry.
"The Daily Prophet, I think!" Colin said.
This did not improve Y/n's already bad mood.
"Great." said Harry dully. "Exactly what we need. More publicity."
"Good luck!" said Colin when they had reached the right room. Harry knocked on the door and both he and Y/n entered.
It was in a fairly small classroom, most of the desks had been pushed away to the back of the room, leaving a large space in the middle, three of them, however, had been placed end-to-end in front of the blackboard and covered with a long length of velvet. Six chairs had been set behind the velvet-covered desks, and Ludo Bagman was sitting in one of them, talking to a witch Y/n had never seen before, who was wearing magenta robes.
Viktor Krum was standing moodily in a corner as usual and not talking to anybody. Cedric and Fleur were in conversation.
Fleur looked a good deal happier than Y/n had seen her so far, she kept throwing back her head so that her long silvery hair caught the light. A paunchy man, holding a large black camera that was smoking slightly, was watching Fleur out of the corner of his eye.
Bagman suddenly spotted Harry and then Y/n beside him, got up quickly, and bounded forward.
"Ah, here they are! Champions number four and five! In you come, Y/n, Harry, in you come... nothing to worry about, it's just the wand weighing ceremony, the rest of the judges will be here in a moment..."
"Wand weighing?" Harry repeated nervously.
"We have to check that your wands are fully functional, no problems, you know, as they're your most important tools in the tasks ahead." said Bagman.
Y/n supposed this made sense but he remembered that his wand was rather unique. Would that cause any problems?
"The expert's upstairs now with Dumbledore." Bagman continued. "And then there's going to be a little photo shoot. This is Rita Skeeter," he added, gesturing toward the witch in magenta robes. "She's doing a small piece on the tournament for the Daily Prophet..."
"Maybe not that small, Ludo." said Rita Skeeter, her lingering eyes on Harry for a moment and when she caught sight of Y/n's own eyes she became even more intrigued "Definitely not small." She said as Y/n noticed a quill beside her taking notes on it's own.
Her hair was set in elaborate and curiously rigid curls that contrasted oddly with her heavy-jawed face. She wore jeweled spectacles. The thick fingers clutching her crocodile-skin handbag ended in two-inch nails, painted crimson.
"I wonder if I could have a little word with the Grindelwald before we start?" she said to Bagman, gazing fixedly at Y/n again. "The youngest champion, you know...to add a bit of color?"
"Certainly!" cried Bagman. "That is...if Y/n has no objection?"
"Harry is younger than me..." Y/n said in an attempt to get out of this.
"Both the same age though dear." said Rita Skeeter, and in a second, her scarlet-taloned fingers had Y/n's upper arm in a surprisingly strong grip, and she was steering him out of the room again and opening a nearby door.
"We don't want to be in there with all that noise." she said. "Let's see...ah, yes, this is nice and cozy."
It was a broom cupboard. Y/n just stared at her unimpressed.
"Come along, dear... that's right... lovely." said Rita Skeeter again, perching herself precariously upon an upturned bucket, pushing Y/n down onto a cardboard box, and closing the door, throwing them into darkness. "Let's see now..."
She unsnapped her crocodile-skin handbag and pulled out a handful of candles, which she lit with a wave of her wand and magicked into midair, so that they could see what they were doing.
"You won't mind if I use a Quick-Quotes Quill? It leaves me free to talk to you normally..."
"If you must." Y/n said knowing she wouldn't be likely to listen anyway.
Rita Skeeter's smile widened and Y/n counted three gold teeth. She reached again into her crocodile bag and drew out a long acid-green quill and a roll of parchment, which she stretched out between them on a crate of Mrs. Skower's All-Purpose Magical Mess Remover. She put the tip of the green quill into her mouth, sucked it for a moment with apparent relish, then placed it upright on the parchment, where it stood balanced on its point, quivering slightly.
"Testing... my name is Rita Skeeter, Daily Prophet reporter."
Y/n looked down at the quill. The moment Rita Skeeter had spoken, the green quill had started to scribble, skidding across the parchment.
'Attractive blonde Rita Skeeter, forty-three, who's savage quill has punctured many inflated reputations...'
"Lovely." said Rita Skeeter, yet again, and she ripped the top piece of parchment off, crumpled it up, and stuffed it into her handbag. Now she leaned toward Y/n and said, "So, Y/n Grindelwald... what made you decide to enter the Triwizard Tournament?"
Y/n went to tell her that he hadn't but was instead distracted by the quill. Even though he wasn't speaking, it was dashing across the parchment, and in its wake he could make out a fresh sentence.
'With cold eyes that could pierce through ice, Y/n Grindelwald's looks match those of his family's dark history, a history which...'
"Ignore the quill, Y/n." said Rita Skeeter firmly. Reluctantly Y/n looked up at her now. "Now... why did you decide to enter the tournament, Y/n?"
"I did not enter my name." Y/n said now.
Rita Skeeter raised one heavily penciled eyebrow. "Come now, Y/n, there's no need to be scared of getting into trouble. We all know you shouldn't really have entered at all. But don't worry about that. Our readers love a rebel..."
"A rebel?" Y/n repeated. "I have no intentions of being something so foolish...I repeat, I did not enter my name."
"How do you feel about the tasks ahead?" said Rita Skeeter. "Excited? Nervous?"
"Uncertain..." said Y/n. His insides squirmed uncomfortably as he spoke.
"Champions have died in the past, haven't they?" said Rita Skeeter briskly. "Have you thought about that at all?"
"Of course I have..." said Y/n.
The quill whizzed across the parchment between them, back and forward as though it were skating.
"Death is not an uncommon thing surrounding you're family is it?" said Rita Skeeter, watching him closely. "How would you say that's affected you?"
"I am sorry?" Y/n asked her his brow furrowing.
"Do you think that the actions of you're parents and the infamous Gellert Grindelwald in the past might have made you keen to prove yourself? To step out of their shadows and live up to your name? Do you think that perhaps you were tempted to enter the Triwizard Tournament because..."
"I did not enter..." Y/n repeated, feeling irritated now.
"Have you ever met your Grand Uncle Gellert?" said Rita Skeeter, talking over him.
"No, Why should I have?" Y/n said.
"How do you think they'd feel if they knew you were competing in the Triwizard Tournament?" Rita continued.
How Gellert would have felt? Why would it matter to Y/n how he felt. The man had tried to overthrow the wizarding society and push muggles down and it became clear to Y/n now that this Rita Skeeter was not interested in him, but his family's past. Something he confirmed when he looked down at words the quill had just written.
'Desperate to write his own name into legend young Grindelwald son of infamous Ivan and Pricilla Grindelwald enters his name into the legendary Tri-wizard tournament, Could he possibly be hoping to use magic passed down by his great uncle Gellert...'
"Now you listen to me Rita Skeeter..." Y/n started angrily. "I did not enter my name into that goblet, I hate my parents and I have never met Gellert Grindelwald once!"
Before Rita Skeeter could say a word, the door of the broom cupboard was pulled open. Y/n looked around, blinking in the bright light. Albus Dumbledore stood there, looking down at both of them, squashed into the cupboard.
"Dumbledore!" cried Rita Skeeter, with every appearance of delight but Y/n noticed that her quill and the parchment had suddenly vanished from the box of Magical Mess Remover, and Rita's clawed fingers were hastily snapping shut the clasp of her crocodile-skin bag. "How are you?" she said, standing up and holding out one of her large, mannish hands to Dumbledore. "I hope you saw my piece over the summer about the International Confederation of Wizards' Conference?"
"Enchantingly nasty." said Dumbledore, his eyes twinkling. "I particularly enjoyed your description of me as an obsolete dingbat."
Rita Skeeter didn't look remotely abashed. "I was just making the point that some of your ideas are a little old-fashioned, Dumbhedore, and that many wizards in the street..."
"I will be delighted to hear the reasoning behind the rudeness, Rita." said Dumbledore, with a courteous bow and a smile. "But I'm afraid we will have to discuss the matter later. The Weighing of the Wands is about to start, and it cannot take place if one of our champions is hidden in a broom cupboard."
Very glad to get away from Rita Skeeter, Y/n hurried back into the room. The other champions were now sitting in chairs near the door, and he sat down quickly next to Harry, looking up at the velvet-covered table, where four of the five judges were now sitting. Professor Karkaroff, Madame Maxime, Mr. Crouch, and Ludo Bagman. Rita Skeeter settled herself down in a corner and Y/n saw her slip the parchment out of her bag again, spread it on her knee, suck the end of the Quick-Quotes Quill, and place it once more on the parchment.
'I am going to burn that Quill...' He thought to himself.
"May I introduce Mr. Ollivander?" said Dumbledore, taking his place at the judges' table and talking to the champions. "He will be checking your wands to ensure that they are in good condition before the tournament."
Y/n looked around, and to his surprise he saw a familiar old wizard with large, pale eyes standing quietly by the window. This man was Mr Ollivander. Y/n had met him before, he was the wandmaker from whom Y/n had bought his own wand over three years ago in Diagon Alley.
"Mademoiselle Delacour, could we have you first, please?" said Mr. Ollivander, stepping into the empty space in the middle of the room.
Fleur Delacour swept over to Mr Ollivander and handed him her wand.
"Hmm..." he said twirling the wand between his long fingers like a baton and it emitted a number of pink and gold sparks. Then he held it chose to his eyes and examined it carefully. "Yes." he said quietly. "Nine and a half inches... inflexible...rosewood...and containing...dear me... "
"An 'air from ze 'ead of a Veela," said Fleur. "One of my grandmuzzer's."
So Fleur was part Veela, Y/n thought and it explained all the attention she got.
Harry was making a mental note to tell Ron... then he remembered that Ron wasn't speaking to him.
"Yes." said Mr. Ollivander, "Yes, I've never used veela hair myself, of course. I find it makes for rather temperamental wands... however, to each his own, and if this suits you..."
Mr. Ollivander ran his fingers along the wand, apparently checking for scratches or bumps, then he muttered, "Orchideous!" and a bunch of flowers burst from the wand tip.
"Very well, very well, it's in fine working order." said Mr. Ollivander, scooping up the flowers and handing them to Fleur with her wand. "Mr. Diggory, you next. "
Fleur glided back to her seat, smiling at Cedric as he passed her.
"Ah, now, this is one of mine, isn't it?" said Mr. Ollivander, with much more enthusiasm, as Cedric handed over his wand. "Yes, I remember it well. Containing a single hair from the tail of a particularly fine male unicorn...must have been seventeen hands, nearly gored me with his horn after I plucked his tail. Twelve and a quarter inches... ash... pleasantly springy. It's in fine condition... You treat it regularly?"
"Polished it last night," said Cedric, grinning.
Y/n watched patiently as Harry beside him tried to rub his wand clean with his robe. Several gold sparks shot out of the end of it. Fleur Delacour gave him a very patronizing look, and he desisted.
Mr Ollivander sent a stream of silver smoke rings across the room from the tip of Cedric's wand, pronounced himself satisfied, and then said. "Mr. Krum, if you please."
Viktor Krum got up and slouched, round-shouldered and duck-footed, toward Mr Ollivander. He thrust out his wand and stood scowling, with his hands in the pockets of his robes.
"Hmm." said Mr. Ollivander. "This is a Gregorovitch creation, unless I'm much mistaken? A fine wand-maker, though the styling is never quite what I... however... "
He lifted the wand and examined it minutely, turning it over and over before his eyes.
"Yes... hornbeam and dragon heartstring?" he shot at Krum, who nodded. "Rather thicker than one usually sees.. . quite rigid... ten and a quarter inches... Avis!"
The hornbeam wand let off a blast like a gun, and a number of small, twittering birds flew out of the end and through the open window into the watery sunlight.
"Good." said Mr. Ollivander, handing Krum back his wand. "Mr Potter?" He called next.
Harry got to his feet and walked past Krum to Mr. Ollivander. He handed over his wand.
"Aaaah, yes." said Mr. Olivander, his pale eyes suddenly gleaming. "Yes, yes, yes. How well I remember."
Y/n watched as Mr Ollivander spent much longer examining Harry's wand than anyone else's so far. Eventually, however, he made a fountain of wine shoot out of it, and handed it back to Harry, announcing that it was still in perfect condition. "Which leaves...Mr Grindelwald."
Y/n passed by Harry now as he took out his wand and presented it to Mr Ollivander.
Four summers ago, he had entered Mr. Ollivander's shop to buy a wand. Mr. Ollivander had taken his measurements and then started handing him wands to try. Y/n had waved a large pile of wands in the shop, until at last he had found the one that suited him. This one, which was made of Yew, nine inches long, and contained a single hair from the mane of a Thestral. Mr. Ollivander had been very surprised that the wand
"Yes, 9 inches....Yew...with a Thestral hair as the core."
"Thestral Ollivander?" Dumbledore asked.
"Curious isn't it. I made this wand in younger days to test Thestral hair as a wand core. The wand while possessing magical qualities spent decades unpaired. I had quite given up by the time young Grindelwald walked into my shop and paired with the wood of Yew, yes this wand has several elements of death imbued into it."
Out of the corner of his eye Y/n saw Rita Skeeter's Quick-Quotes Quill might explode with excitement as it thoroughly took notes..
"Informative..." Dumbledore said as if thinking something over before coming back to attention. "Thank you all." said Dumbledore, standing up at the judges' table. "You may go back to your lessons now ...or perhaps it would be quicker just to go down to dinner, as they are about to end."
Feeling that at last something had gone right today, Y/n and Harry got up to leave, but the man with the black camera jumped up and cleared his throat.
"Photos, Dumbledore, photos!" cried Bagman excitedly. "All the judges and champions, what do you think, Rita?"
"Er...yes, let's do those first." said Rita Skeeter, whose eyes were upon Harry again. "And then perhaps some individual shots while I ask the some questions?"
The photographs took a long time. Madame Maxime cast everyone else into shadow wherever she stood, and the photographer couldn't stand far enough back to get her into the frame, eventually she had to sit while everyone else stood around her. Karkaroff kept twirling his goatee around his finger to give it an extra curl. Krum, whom Harry would have thought would have been used to this sort of thing, skulked, half-hidden, at the back of the group. The photographer seemed keenest to get Fleur at the front, but Rita Skeeter kept hurrying forward and dragging Harry and Y/n into greater prominence. Then she insisted on separate shots of all the champions. She tried to ask Y/n a few more questions but he refused to speak to her at all now. At last, they were free to go.
"Go to dinner without me." Y/n said to Harry as they reached the stairs.
"You aren't hungry?" Harry asked him.
"I am going to the hospital ward to visit Hermione." Y/n told him.
Harry nodded and went down to dinner alone while Y/n walked to the Hospital.
The walk was quiet and Y/n thought back over the events of the day, nothing seemed to have gone smoothly at all. Ron still was not talking to either him or Harry. The Daily Prophet was now also likely to publish an article featuring him, something he was dreading. But worst of all Hermione had gotten hurt because in a rare moment he had lost his temper.
Y/n reached the Hospital ward doors now and knocked upon them. He waited a few moments until one of the doors opened revealing Madam Pomfrey.
"Is something wrong Grindelwald?" She asked him as if already trying to assess what injury he might have.
"I am here to visit Miss Granger." Y/n told her.
"Visiting hours are not for a few more hours Mr Grindelwald you should be at dinner."
"I am afraid I do not have time to visit later Madam Pomfrey, It has to be now."
"And why would that be?" She asked doubtfully.
"I need to begin making preparations for the Tri-wizard tournament, unless you wish to increase the chances of you needing to treat me after the first task." Y/n said to her.
Madam Pomfrey frowned but reluctantly changed her mind. "Fine. But if you cause a disturbance you are straight out. The patients are trying to eat their dinner in peace." She warned him.
"I assure you I shall not." Y/n said as he stepped inside now.
Madam Pomfrey closed the door behind him. "Miss Granger is resting in the furthest bed down on the left hand side."
Y/n looked to see Hermione was indeed sitting up in her bed as she slowly ate dinner that had been brought up for her. Y/n felt an uncomfortable pit in his stomach and it took him a moment to realize why, He remembered the last time he come to visit Hermione in the hospital like this was when she had been petrified by the Basilisk.
Y/n started to walk forward now and it was only when he reached the foot of Hermione's bed did she notice him.
"Y/n?" She asked.
"May I sit down?" Y/n asked her indicating to chair beside her bed.
"Of course." Hermione said as she went to put down her knife and fork.
"Please do not stop eating on my account." Y/n told her as he sat down. "You have had a trying day and are sure to be hungry."
Hermione was unsure but continued to eat now.
Y/n just waited patiently until her plate was cleared before he spoke. "I am sorry Hermione..."
"Sorry?" Hermione asked him.
"It is my fault you are here in the first place." Y/n said to her. "If I had not let my temper get the better of me..."
"It was not your fault. Malfoy was the one who started everything with those badges. Besides if you hadn't taken your wand out Harry or Ron only would have." She told him.
"I still cannot help but feel guilty..." Y/n admitted.
"Don't Y/n, It wasn't your fault." Hermione told him again and there was a silent pause. "H..How did it go with Snape?" she asked.
"Harry, Ron and I have detention...Malfoy and Atticus got away with nothing." Y/n told her.
"Of course they did..." Hermione said.
Y/n looked at Hermione now and noticed that while the curse she was hit with had been removed her teeth were not back to the original size, in fact they seemed slightly smaller. He pointed this out to her.
"Well... when I went up to Madam Pomfrey to get them shrunk, she held up a mirror and told me to stop her when they were back to how they normally were." she said. "And I just...let her carry on a bit." She smiled. "Mum and Dad won't be too pleased. I've been trying to persuade them to let me shrink them for ages, but they wanted me to carry on with my braces. You know, they're dentists, they just don't think teeth and magic should mix."
"I do not know what a dentist is." Y/n told her and soon she began to explain what they were to him.
As he listened Y/n couldn't help but look at Hermione's new teeth. He wouldn't admit it but he found the new look suited her better for she seemed to be smiling more.
"Harry and I were called out of classes to meet with the other Champions." He soon told her.
"You were? What for?" Hermione asked.
"To make sure our wands are up to standard mainly. They took some photographs and I was interviewed by a horrid woman..."
"Horrid woman?" Hermione asked.
"I believe her name was Rita Skeeter. She had no interest in what I had to say, Only what my last name is." and Y/n began to tell her what had happened.
When Harry returned to Gryffindor Tower, thinking of all the extra work on Summoning Charms that he had to do. Up in the dormitory, he came across Ron.
"You've had an owl." said Ron brusquely the moment he walked in. He was pointing at Harry's pillow. The school barn owl was waiting for him there.
"Oh...right." said Harry.
"And we've got to do our detentions tomorrow night, Snape's dungeon." said Ron.
He then walked straight out of the room, not looking at Harry. For a moment, Harry considered going after him but he wasn't sure whether he wanted to talk to him or hit him, both seemed quite appealing... but the lure of Sirius's answer was too strong. Harry strode over to the barn owl, took the letter off its leg, and unrolled it.
'Harry.
I can't say everything I would like to in a letter, it's too risky in case the owl is intercepted. We need to talk face-to-face. Can you ensure that you are alone by the fire in Gryffindor Tower at one o'clock in the morning on the 22nd of November?
I know better than anyone that you can look after yourself and while you're around Dumbledore and Moody I don't think anyone will be able to hurt you. However, someone seems to be having a good try. Entering you and Y/n in that tournament would have been very risky, especially right under Dumbldore's nose.
Be on the watch, Harry. I still want to hear about anything unusual. Let me know about the 22nd of November as quickly as you can.'