THE GOBLET OF FIRE

[ADMIN DEE]

At the front of the Great Hall, just in front of the staff table, is a pedestal. Upon this pedestal is the Goblet of Fire. Made of heavy hewn wood that has blue and white flames dancing all around from within. The Goblet serves as an "impartial judge" for the Tri-Wizard Tournament and will choose the three champions from the participating schools of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry, Beauxbatons Academy for Magic, and the Durmstrang Institute. After the students have placed their names in the Goblet, the champions will be chosen on Halloween night during the feast.

The tournament is forbidden to any witch or wizard under the age of 17 and to prevent young entries, there is an Age Line drawn up by Professor Longbottom (so don't try anything meddlesome!)

"The Goblet of Fire! Anyone wishing to submit themselves to the tournament need only write their name upon a piece of parchment and throw it in the flame before this hour on Thursday night. Do not do so lightly! If chosen, there's no turning back. As from this moment, The Triwizard Tournament has begun." - Albus Dumbledore (J.K. Rowling)

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There is no limit to how many of your characters you may enter as long as they are of 17 years of age. Staff members may enter their student (for plotting, etc.) but their names will not be entered into the tournament. Names will be drawn during IC October, on Halloween, from a randomizer with all names for each school separated into groups.

To enter the tournament, you must post an IC reply to this thread of your character entering the hall and their name into the Goblet. Please be sure to post your other characters (if any) from their own respective accounts so as to make it easy on the staff when we enter all names.

The cut off for entering your characters into the Goblet OOC will be August 20th. Champions will be announced September 10th OOC.

[Irina Rose Krum]

It was the moment Irina had dreamt of; quite literally, she had been dreaming of entering the tournament for weeks now, even before it was officially announced.  The Goblet of Fire was open for names to be submitted for judgement; either her or one of her fellow classmates would be chosen as Champion for Hogwarts.  She felt a mixed bag of emotions; nervous of course, but excited as well, and determined.  Determined to make a name for herself that set the Krum name apart from Quidditch fame.  

Rina entered the hall with her head held high, even though her heart was pounding a mile a minute.  Clutched in her hand was a piece of parchment: Irina Krum - Hogwarts.  Looking around, she spotted her sisters sitting at the Hufflepuff table.  Seeing them gave her the strength to step across the Age Line.  She took a deep breath and tossed the parchment into the fire.  It blazed brilliantly for a moment, causing Irina to shield her eyes, then died down to normal.  A few claps echoed across the hall as, smiling now that the moment was over, Rina crossed back over the line and over to sit with her sisters.  She needed a few moments to calm her pounding heart.

[Deleted]

“Has anyone got a quill?” In her haste to get herself to the Great Hall, Lucy Weasley had forgotten her own. There were plenty of people gathered around—seventh years and younger students alike—so someone was sure to have one. A hand reached out to provide her with a quill, and—before she had time to thank them—Lucy had already written her name on a slip of parchment. Still left with the writing implement in her hand, she passed it on to the next person in search of one. (What was one missing quill at a time like this, really?)

Making her way around a group of spectating first-years who were standing towards the front to get a better look at the blue flames that flickered from the Goblet of Fire, Lucy walked towards the pedestal upon which the Goblet sat. Tossing her hair over her shoulder, she strode up to it, a small smile crossing her face. She didn’t know if Anna was entering. Frankly, she didn’t even care. This was her moment.

Without another thought, she tossed her piece of parchment into the flames, watching through her glasses as her name disappeared from sight:

Lucy Weasley

Asa had told her to be careful. She would.

[Deleted]

She had been arguing with herself all morning. The thin strip of parchment in her hand had started out flat and smooth, but between the several different crumplings and the accidental drop on the floor, it had turned into a tiny balled mess. Her nerves was starting to get the better of her. She had talked herself into entering in the Ravenclaw common room, but now that she was standing there, staring at the blue fire, knowing that by throwing this piece of paper into the goblet her life might drastically change, Selby couldn't help but squeak just a tiny bit.

You'll never forgive yourself if you don't do this!
I might die!

What are the odds of that happening!? One in a thousand!
One in four... Last time this was here.

There were bad things happening then.
There are bad things happening now! Besides, dad would kill me if I did this.

All the more reason to do it.

Selby bit at her bottom lip, her hands smoothing the piece of parchment out against her stomach in a nervous rhythm. Her dad was an Auror, he was out there risking his life everyday so that wizards and muggles didn't have to live in fear. If she couldn't even be brave enough to toss her name into a goblet, how could she ever be brave or strong enough to help fight against the darkness? She held the parchment, now quite flat but still a bit crumpled, before her and stared at the nine letters that made up her name. Selby King - Hogwarts With a sigh and with all the strength in her body she moved herself forwards and dropped it into the blue fire atop the goblet.

A sense of relief and excitement washed over her. Drowning out the brief moment of dread that stayed at her fingertips.

[Deleted]

Well, the time had come, hadn't it? Time to put his name in the Goblet of Fire. He was sitting in the room with the Goblet, leaning back against the wall while other people went forth to do it. He was getting some pretty intense emotional vibes from those who were putting their names in. Fear, despair, resentment, excitement, elation, happiness, pride... he was starting to get a headache. So why hadn't he put his name in yet and just left this room that was just filling with more and more mixed emotions?

Aw. That was why. Irina Krum stepped into the room and approached the Goblet. He stood a little straighter, pushing off the wall. She probably hadn't noticed him, considering he was pretty far back in the room all alone by the wall. He watched as she put her name in, shielded her eyes, and then moved back to sit with her sisters.

He smiled. Now he was ready to put his own name in. He had it in his hand already, written on a piece of parchment. A few people later, he moved forward. He approached the Goblet, walking tall and proudly as if he had someone to impress, which was odd for him. Normally he didn't care what anyone though, but for some reason... he felt as if he had to make this a proud moment in his life. He reached the Goblet and lifted his hand. Before dropping his name he thought, erh... thanks for your consideration?

Once his name was in he turned around, a big proud smile on his face as the few Durms in the room gave him nods of approval.

Then he took a step forward and promptly fell on his face.

What was with the clumsiness lately!?

He stood up quickly, brushing off his clothes and trying to retrieve his proud smile. At least the amusement of those laughing in the room caused him to fill with amusement too....

(not for consideration cuz staff :>)

[Deleted]

Anna was sitting in the Great Hall, staring at the small strip of parchment in front of her. All it needed was her name and school and she could drop it in, but she had a silly question. Which name was she supposed to use? Did she need to put her real name- Molly Weasley- or could she write her middle name, since that's what everyone knew her by? Would it make a difference to the Goblet? She doubted that it did, but she was so nervous about putting her name in that she couldn't calm her thoughts. 

After a few minutes of debating, she decided that it didn't matter and she just needed to get the matter over with. She wasn't nervous at the idea of being in the competition, surprisingly enough, but it was being or not being chosen that made her nervous. The anticipation was going to be terrible. She quickly scribbled Annelise Weasley ~ Hogwarts  on a slip of paper. 

Her decision about which name to use made, she stood up and looked around the room. There was a crowd gathered there, but Anna didn't really care. No one was at the Goblet now, so she marched up quickly and dropped the parchment in, unable to hide her smile of anticipation when blue flames seemed to eat it up. She looked around and went to sit with a group of Gryffindors, excited to see who else was going to put their name in.

[Deleted]

Margaux strode into the Great Hall of Hogwarts; ugly as the stone walls were, she was there for a reason and one reason only.  In between her fingers, there was a small slip of elegantly marbled parchement with the words Margaux Schuyler - Beauxbatons written on it.  She sniffed as a Durmstrang boy fell flat on his face and swept by him without a word.  Tossing her hair behind her, she stepped over the silly little Age Line the Headmaster had drawn and tossed her name into the Goblet.  It burned brilliantly but Margaux did not look away.  She liked watching things burn.  Smirking satisfactorily, she turned and swept out of the Great Hall back towards the Beauxbatons carriage.  She wanted to spend as little time in the castle as possible, it was so damp and dark.

[Deleted]

Maria and Elias had been talking about this tournament for weeks now, since they had received their letters from their Headmaster. Now, here they were, both sitting in the room where the Goblet of Fire was placed, and his heart was beating fast. As he stood up, Elias gave her a kiss on the forehead and took the paper out of his pocket.

Strolling across the room, he didn't look at anyone but the fire burning cup. He stood there, breathing heavy, and opened up the piece of paper:

Elias Greyback - Durmstrang

His thumb rubbed along his name, and he swallowed. Elias folded the paper back up, looked up, and flicked it in. He watched the paper burn away, his name disappearing. Elias turned abruptly, and walked right back to where Maria was, his body numb.

[Deleted]

this was the reason they had come so far. to put their names into the goblet of fire in the hopes of being picked as champion to represent their school. no one wanted to loose and everyone wanted to be picked. though only a few would be. he walked up to the fire as the person before him dropped their name in, the flames lighting up the room as he stepped up and reached to drop the piece of parchment with his name into it. he stared at the paper as it burned and he stepped back behind the age line to keep watching people putting their names in. he wondered if his brother had already put his name into the cup, glancing around the room in the hopes of spotting him.

[Deleted]

The Goblet was taunting her. Cecelia knew that she had to enter – Desirae would kill her if she didn’t – but she was dead anyways, wasn’t she? She was a dead girl walking, and everyone knew it even if no one would say it. Even her former friends from Beauxbatons knew it, and they’d only been at the school for a few hours. The Goblet was taunting her, just like everything else was taunting her, and Cecelia wanted to scream, because there was absolutely nothing that she could do to fix anything. Even if she could scream – and she couldn’t, or the vow would be broken – Cecelia wouldn’t. She wouldn’t, but it didn’t matter, because she didn’t even have the choice. Even when she did have a choice, though, it felt like she was making the wrong one. Cecelia swallowed, and stood up. Maybe something good would come out of all this. Maybe she would win, and then she could use the money to run away, to where Desirae would never find her. If Desi couldn’t find her, then Desi couldn’t command her, and it would almost be like she wasn’t under and Unbreakable Vow at all. Almost.

She approached the Goblet with shaking steps that had nothing to do with how little she had eaten at lunch. The Gryffindor girl passed through the age line without incident, obviously. She hadn’t been a child for a long while now, even before her seventeenth birthday had come and gone. Cecelia had a quill in her pocket, a pot of ink in her hand, a piece of parchment tucked into the hem of her sleeve. She set the pot of ink on the pedestal and then retrieved the other materials from their respective locations, staring at them for a moment before someone cleared their throat behind her, a nonverbal signal for her to hurry up. She didn’t increase her pace, however. She wanted the slip to be perfect, so that if it came out of the Goblet Professor Longbottom wouldn’t see how much her hands, too, were shaking. In neat, sloping cursive, Cecelia wrote her name across the parchment slip, and then paused for a moment. How easy it would have been to retrieve a second slip, to enter Braelynn as well, to make everyone remember her sister’s name. It would have been too easy, but Cecelia didn’t do it. It wouldn’t have been what Braelynn wanted. Cecelia was living for them both, now, and that thought sent her heart crumbling down all over again.

Cecelia threw her name into the Goblet with nothing more than a flick of her wrist, capping her ink pot and returning the quill to her pocket. She pivoted, and then remembered that she lacked the agility to do even that simple movement. After a few stumbling steps she was able to right herself, though not before she could glance over her shoulder. What had she done? Regret began to fill her stomach in lieu of food, but Cecelia knew there was no point in it anymore. It had been done, and it would be done, and she couldn’t change it. It took a few more steps for her to be outside of the age line, and then Cecelia carefully turned herself around again, facing the blue-white flames. The regret drained out of her, and she just stared. Somewhere in there, magic was working, churning over her name and finding out every dark secret about her, trying to determine if she was worthy. Oh, she could tell it already. She wasn’t worthy, but she was trying to be. She was really trying, even if it was hard.

Standing in front of the Goblet, watching the boy behind her eagerly write down his name, Cecelia made a choice. She was going to live again, instead of dying every day because she had failed to save her sister. She was going to live again, and maybe that life included being the Triwizard Champion. Maybe it didn’t. Either way, she was going to be her own hero. Everybody else was too busy trying to save themselves.

[Deleted]

This was the reason he was here. To put his name in the Goblet. Oscar watched as others paraded forward, most of them with their chests puffed up like an overzealous penguins. They looked ridiculous, really, and for someone so focused on appearances, that wasn’t a good sign for Ozzy. He continued to watch, waiting for someone, anyone, to look like they were completely confident in their own chances of success. Maybe some of their humility would rub off on him. Oscar didn’t want to seem cocky, like so many of these other people. That way, when he was inevitably picked as the Beauxbatons champion, people would actually be happy for him. That was the hardest part about success – finding someone who was happy for you for it.

After a long period of waiting, Oscar finally gave up on waiting for a humble person to come by. Everyone seemed to have some hilariously big chip on his shoulder, like they were trying to avenge dead people or prove themselves worthy to their tiger parents. Oscar would avenge his parents, but they didn’t really need avenging. He was waiting for the reason they had died, but that didn’t mean he needed to create one. That was the exact reason why Ozzy was certain that he was the most worthy – he wasn’t fighting for anyone other than himself, and selfishness was the only thing that made a certain winner.

When Ozzy walked up to the Goblet, he tried to keep the swagger out of his steps. They were precise, almost militant, with no emotion to prove that he was anything other than apathetic about this whole situation. He already had his name written down in his blocky letters. He had even written his middle name, however silly it was, just in case there was another Oscar Gauthier he hadn’t been aware of. With a flick of the wrist Ozzy submitted his piece of parchment into the Goblet, and then walked away without a second thought. He already knew his name was going to be spat back out again.

[grey xavier slater]

The Monsters

walk among us

Grey had hoped for an interesting final and seventh year at Hogwarts, and now he had been granted it. It was definitely a strange twist of fate; ask and you shall receive. He had initially planned to use this year as a start to his Auror training, but depending on how everything went, that might not be possible. The winner of the Triwizard Tournament received praise and glory, things he didn’t really care about too much. He had initially thought that this would be a good way to prove to his parents that he was just as important as his older sister was, but that didn’t sit well with him. It was time to do something for himself, instead of constantly trying to play the catch up game. Would becoming a champion and potentially winning all of it get him noticed? Sure. But this was what he wanted, and if anything, his family would probably tell him not to enter it. To Grey, this was going to be a test of what he had learned during his years at school, and a test of where he should go following graduation. The ever lingering idea of joining the Aurors still loomed over him. Doing good and helping others were two of his virtues but the training for it was mentally and physically tough. Grey had a good arsenal at his disposal for the most part and being a champion in the tournament would be enough to prove to himself that he belonged in the Auror program. First, though, he had to actually enter his name into the Goblet of Fire.

He wasn’t much for theatrics or having a bunch of people watch him enter, so he decided that the most opportune moment to do it was in the late afternoon. That morning, Grey had scribbled his name down on a scrap of notebook paper, nothing too elaborate. After completing his morning and midday classes, and managing to stomach down whatever lunch was, Grey spent the rest of his day laying outside, still contemplating if this was a good idea. Pulling the piece of paper with his name on it out of his pocket, Grey stared at it. Going over the gains and losses of the tournament once again, he decided that this was the best chance he was ever going to get in his life, and not entering would be silly. There were tons of other Hogwarts students entering and the chance of being picked was slim. Add to it that the tournament was relatively safer now, death usually being the worst outcome, there wasn’t exactly a negative to putting his name in. And dying in the Triwizard Tournament meant that it was going to be pretty glorious, not that he wanted to go out that way. Rolling over on the grass, he stood up and headed into the castle. It was now or never. Even if there were a ton of people in the Great Hall watching, he’d still throw his scrap in. Any social anxiety was due to go away during the tournament anyways, so better to get a head start on it.

Sticking his head into the Great Hall to see the situation, Grey spotted a few people sitting around studying and talking. Thankfully there wasn’t a huge crowd. As he stepped into the grand room, paper in hand, a Beauxbatons student stood up from a group of them and walked over to the goblet, dropping her name in. A lick of blue flames spun up into the air as the magical flames took her scrap of paper into it. The loud roar from it drew looks from the other students sitting in the hall, the Beauxbatons students clapping as their classmate walked back to where they were sitting. Grey sighed. He wasn’t expecting people to actually pay attention to it at this point, since it had been a few days since the tournament was announced, and yet here he was, about to drop his name into the goblet in front of a huge crowd of foreign students. Clenching the piece of paper tighter in his hands, he took a deep breath and started towards the goblet slowly. He assumed it must look pretty awkward to see someone come from outside of the Great Hall on their own just to submit their name, but he was far past caring what others thought at this point. All he had to do was drop the paper in and then he was done.

Passing by the table of Beauxbatons students, Grey made eye contact with a few of them. He was unsure what to think about the French students, since they typically stuck together. There were a few outliers he had noticed, but the same could be said about him and the rest of the Hogwarts students. As far as he could tell, there hadn’t been too much interaction between the two schools since the start of term, and he assumed it would stay like that until the actual tournament started. They were getting used to their new surroundings after all, and it would be rude of him to interfere with that. Giving a friendly nod to them, he continued walking past their group and up to the Goblet of Fire. For an inanimate object it was extremely intimidating. Bringing his hand over the top of it, Grey let go of the scrap of paper, watching it as the flames swallowed it. The goblet roared once again, and he turned around, expecting to be met with glares from everyone in the Great Hall. The Beauxbatons students silently watched, not clapping like they had for their classmate, a few muttering things to each other. He could only think about how serious they were about this tournament. He could tell that a few of the Hogwarts students had looked his way, but they weren’t really paying attention to him. Oddly enough, Grey was fine with that. He’d rather get stared down by his potential competition than cheered on by them. There was something satisfying about being taken seriously by an opponent. Happy with the outcome and lack of attention he elicited, Grey turned and left the Great Hall. Now all he had to do was wait for the names to be drawn.

grey xavier slater
1,049
Homecoming by Green Day

MADE BY VEL OF GS + ADOX 2.0

[Deleted]

WORDS: 1,089 | TAG: @emile | Dosed by Red Hot Chili Peppers

The trip from France to Scotland was a short one. Émile had done a lot of traveling in his time, unfortunately to muggle locations and using infernal muggle transportation, so taking the Beauxbatons’ flying coaches across to the neighboring country was simple for him. The whole decision to enter the Triwizard Tournament was an easy one for him. It was the greatest competition available to him. Winning it would be the ultimate bragging rights for him. His lust for the grandest test of athleticism, wit, magical fortitude and brute strength was mere steps in front of him following the speech that the Hogwarts headmaster gave: The Goblet of Fire. The large cup was disgustingly beautiful, three schools worth of students would drop their names into it and it would pick a champion from each, those it felt worthy of competing for glory. Having your name drawn from it meant you were the best of the best, and to Émile that was his greatest desire. When the students of Beauxbatons that were old enough were told of the tournament, he was the first one to throw his hand into the air, offering to be the sole student go to Hogwarts for Beauxbatons. His classmates didn’t like this, of course, giving him looks of disgust and talking about him under their breath, but Émile didn’t care. He knew he was the best choice for it, and they knew that too somewhere deep down in them that he was perfect for the role of champion, whether they wanted to admit it or not.

Beauxbatons had asked time and time again before they left if all the students over 17 were willing to enter. Apparently they were apprehensive because of what had occurred the previous year at Hogwarts. The higher ups at the school had no faith in their students. Those being sent were just like Émile, the best of the best, and they wouldn’t be picked off like the flimsy little Hogwarts kids were. Upon arriving at the foreign school, he immediately scratched his name down on a piece of paper, as they had all been ordered to by their head. Unfortunately the goblet wasn’t made readily available for them, and instead they had been forced to wait until the next day. Not being able to sleep at all, Émile had waited up all night, readying himself to be the first one to put his name in come daybreak. As the Beauxbatons students made their way to the hall they had found themselves in the previous night, he rushed up to where the cup was, only to find an extremely long line already ahead of him. It was mixed, a good chunk of them Hogwarts students, but the rest were Durmstrang. Whilst the Hogwarts champion wouldn’t prove tough for him, Durmstrang was a completely different story. They were like Émile. The students there practiced and learned as if their lives depended on it. He liked that philosophy. If only his parents had been smarter and sent him there instead.

As the line slowly dissolved in front of him, Émile struck up a conversation with the Hogwarts student in front of him, trying to get a grasp on what the school was all about. The student, a girl, seemed shocked when he started speaking. He had forgotten that the majority of the Beauxbatons students only spoke French, so it was surely surprising when one could speak English so fluently. He had to be thankful for his mother for that skill. At least she was good for something other than loving muggles. Quickly explaining that his mother was American, the girl seemed to understand eventually. Maybe these Hogwarts students weren’t that smart after all. More time passed as he held a semi one-sided conversation that only consisted of him talking and the Hogwarts girl just nodding and staring at him in wonder. Did he have something on his face? The difference between this girl and Émile was that he went to a different school and was French. People from France weren’t a spectacle, and Émile had to rudely point this out to get her to pay attention. The girl clearly didn’t like this, furrowing her brow and turning away from him, striking up a conversation with the Durmstrang boy in front of her. Giving her a nasty look behind her back, he turned his attention to the front of the line, coming ever closer to him.

Eventually, after a long time waiting, people cheering on their friends, and Émile anxiously yelling at those in the front to hurry up in French, much to deaf ears, he made it. The aforementioned girl dropped her paper in, jumping back suddenly as flames rolled around it. Neat trick. Watching the girl walk away towards a group of what Émile could only guess were her friends (and how such an airhead had friends was beyond him), he laughed thinking that someone like her could be the Hogwarts champion. Bunch of idiots they were. Stepping across the chalk circle line the Hogwarts headmaster had placed around the cup to prevent underage students from entering, Émile peered over the edge of the cup, the flames dancing across his field of view. He grinned as he pulled his scrap of paper with his name on it out of his pocket, dropping it right in front of his face. The fire did the same thing it had with the girl before him; the blue flames gobbling it up and sending it somewhere else. Of course, that wouldn’t be the last time he’d see the little piece of paper, because they were definitely going to be pulling his name for Beauxbatons. If they didn’t, then the system was rigged for the popular choice, Émile had already decided on that. He truly believed that giving him the title of champion was the only way Beauxbatons had a chance at winning.

Satisfied with the result of entering his name, he turned away from the cup as the person behind him did the same thing he had. Émile looked towards the Hogwarts girl he had talked to earlier, giving a half-hearted fake smile and waving at her. The rest of the girls laughed at their friend as she gave him a nasty look in return. Not that he expected anything else from her. With that, he joined his fellow Beauxbatons students at their assigned table for breakfast. He’d need to start preparing himself mentally and physically for the tournament now, because winning was the only option.

so come one and come all

to the crumbling walls
Of our city now painted with red

credit to nat of adoxography.

[Deleted]

Lysander couldn’t think whenever he was around the Goblet. The crackling flames spat whorls of tar black into the air, a color that clogged his ears and his eyes and his mind. It was so bad that he couldn’t even eat when he was too close to it – he had made the mistake the first night of term of sitting nearby to the Goblet, and he had missed every single word that Professor Longbottom had said. The headmaster’s orange voice was nowhere near strong enough to overpower the black. Even Susan, with her cotton white voice, couldn’t drown out the crackling of the Goblet. Lysander found himself wishing idly for Alice to be there, not only for her silver voice but also for her ability to calm him down when he was winding himself up. She would have made it better, even when the black flames were making his stomach hurt.

It took Sander a while to figure out what was happening. Missing the start of term speech had actually been disadvantageous instead of just annoying, and Lysander’s housemates explained, rather impatiently, that they were having the Triwizard Tournament at Hogwarts – which he had been able to suss out on his own, thank you very much – and that students over the age of seventeen were allowed to enter the Tournament by entering their name in the Goblet of Fire. That alone was enough to make Lysander not want to enter – he didn’t want to have to be anywhere near the Goblet. Still, the idea of the Tournament stuck in his brain. His mother had told him a story, once, but he couldn’t remember most of it. All he remembered about the Tournament was that Harry Potter had won and that another boy – Diggory? – had died. Lysander couldn’t imagine why people would volunteer for a tournament wherein there was a real chance of dying. All of the reasons not to enter just kept stacking up in his head, so Sander didn’t understand why, despite all logic, he desperately wanted to. He was a rational person – he was supposed to be led by his brain, not his heart. Of course it was his traitorous heart that was making him consider entering into the competition.

If he did enter, the Ravenclaw knew there was only a slim chance of being chosen. He didn’t know what would make him any more or less worthy than the next person, so Sander just had to assume that everyone had exactly the same chance of winning. Since practically all the seventh years he knew were entering, that meant that there were at least twenty people entering, or maybe even more. Five percent was not good odds. Again with the logic! Again with the logic being ignored. Lysander had to admit that, of all the things the Tournament offered, the fame was what he most wanted. He wasn’t a particularly egotistical person, but he didn’t enjoy being in his brother’s shadow. If he was selected to be the Triwizard Tournament, then everyone would know the name Lysander Scamander. Lorcan would be his afterthought, instead of the other way around, and Sander had to admit that the thought was alluring, if somewhat mean-spirited.

In the end, it came down to what Sander knew he had wanted from the beginning; as much as he pretended to be a logical person, he was just as emotional as the next person, and he wanted to be someone. If that meant feeling like he was drowning in a sea of black tar for a minute or so, then so be it. Lysander made all of the necessary preparation before he even got down to the Great Hall. He had written his full name on the parchment, which had been a bit of a squeeze due to his two middle names, but in the end, everything had fit, barely. He didn’t write that he was from Hogwarts, trusting the Goblet to be able to know that much. The only other preparation that he had to make was telling Susan, so he scribbled her a note and left it in the corner of the common room where she normally studied. Sander wanted to be alone for this, so that if, for some reason, he decided at the last minute that it wasn’t what he wanted, he could back out without being called a coward. Sad day, when a Ravenclaw’s worst fear was being called a coward.

Actually putting his name in the Goblet wasn’t all that momentous, especially after all of the deliberation Sander had put into the whole thing. There was not a single soul in the Great Hall when he dropped his parchment into the flame, turning tail before the black snap of the fire could make him sick. That was that – Lysander Scamander’s one chance to be somebody.

[Deleted]

Jamie knew that she needed to submit her name to the Goblet of Fire. It wasn't a choice for her, though she knew that anyone she asked would say that she absolutely had the right to choose. It wasn't a choice for her, though, because if she were to win the Hogwarts nomination, she would finally be able to prove that werewolves were just as worthy as anybody else and that they could be good. She would finally be able to prove that she was not anything like her father. She would finally be able to prove that a Hufflepuff didn't just win the position of Champion the first time out of pure luck. There was so much that she wanted to prove, and that was before she even got to the list of people that she wanted to prove herself to.

Jamie wanted to prove herself to Aaron, who would never ask for proof. She wanted to prove herself to the brother who had taken her in despite her explanation being fragmented and his space being limited. She wanted to prove herself to the man who had held her family together even when they had wanted nothing more than to fall apart. She wanted to prove herself to the person that had always been, and would always be, her protector, her secret-keeper, and her cheerleader.

Jamie wanted to prove herself to Odette, who would probably not even want Jamie to be entering in the first place. She wanted to prove herself to the sister who had protected them both so fiercely that she had ripped them both apart. She wanted to prove herself to the woman who had apologized so openly and so honestly for something that hadn’t really been a fault of her own, but rather a fault of the lives they had both been shoved into and the father that they shared. She wanted to prove herself to the person that she needed to learn to love better.

Jamie wanted to prove herself to Elias, who wouldn’t even know that she was proving herself to him. She wanted to prove herself to the brother who had just appeared out of thin air, like a ghost in the night. She wanted to prove herself to the boy who had looked so terrified and so overwhelmed when he had realized they were bound together by blood. She wanted to prove herself to the person that she didn’t know yet, but hoped to, someday.

Jamie wanted to prove herself to Adrian, who would be Adrian no matter if she won the position of champion or lost it. She wanted to prove herself to the brother that hadn’t wanted their family, but had taken them anyways, even if he didn’t realize he had. She wanted to prove herself to the boy who had hugged her when she had been her most vulnerable, who had brought her back to life when she swore that she was dying. She wanted to prove herself to the person who insisted he didn’t like her, but still sent her letters all the way from Germany.

Jamie wanted to prove herself to Lily, who would always be her sister, even if there was no blood shared to prove their bond. She wanted to prove herself to the sister who didn’t know they were sisters, but treated her like one all the same. She wanted to prove herself to the girl who had Adrian under her thumb and forced him into the arms of his waiting siblings. She wanted to prove herself to the person who could have any friend she wanted, but had chosen the Hufflepuff werewolf.

Jamie wanted to prove herself to Maxima, who would insist that this was the stupidest way to get attention ever. She wanted to prove herself to the sister that she needed to protect no matter the cost, and needed to love no matter the hurt. She wanted to prove herself to the girl who, goddamn, Jamie loved to the moon and to the oceans and every single star in the sky. She wanted to prove herself to the person who had reached into Jamie’s chest and ripped out her heart and then told her that she would keep it safe.

Jamie wanted to prove herself to Harper, who would probably get a thrill at the danger of it all. She wanted to prove herself to the girlfriend that she had loved a long time before she knew what love was. She wanted to prove herself to the woman who had loved the wolf long before the person inside of it. She wanted to prove herself to the person who very well could be – probably was, if Jamie was honest – her soul mate, the one love of her life, her be all end all.

Most of all, she wanted to prove herself to the one person she always forgot. She wanted to prove herself, most of all, to Jamie. She wanted to prove herself to the girl who didn’t believe there was such a thing as loving too much. That was all she could really do, wasn’t it? She could love, and love, and love, and maybe that was enough to make her worthy in the Goblet’s metaphorical eyes. Jamie didn’t know what it looked for when selecting a champion, but if capacity to love was one of the criteria, she was going to blow the competition out of the water. If it wasn’t, then maybe Jamie didn’t want to be a champion after all. She was fine with being Just Jamie, because to all the people she wanted to prove herself to, she was already more than that. It was strange, how love worked – you wanted so badly to prove yourself to people, but knew that that was never what they were looking for.

The last Hufflepuff that had been a Triwizard Champion had died. Jamie knew that. She was no Cedric Diggory, though, and she didn’t have Harry Potter or a Dark Lord searching for her. She wasn’t scared for her life, no more than the average champion should be. She was confident in her own abilities – she was a good student, and a good flier, and she had people behind her. She had an army behind her, really, because she was certain that all of Hufflepuff would be proud of her, just as they had all been proud of Cedric. She had the part of Slytherin that was worth having, the part that included Max and Addilyn. She had Gryffindor, or at least Lily – she wasn’t sure whether to count on Adrian, yet. She had her brother the Quidditch player and her sister the Cursebreaker, and her girlfriend the Ministry worker. There was no way this could go wrong. Jamie wouldn’t let it go wrong.

Dropping her name into the Goblet wasn’t that big of a ceremony – she had written her name down in clean, sharp lines on a piece of nice parchment, and folded it once before allowing the flames to eat it up. This was nothing, really – all of the work that would maybe get her selected as Hogwarts’s champion had already been done. This was just the part where she submitted the work for somebody else to see. That finished, Jamie turned and headed outside for some fresh air. She was going to need all of it that she could get before term started and she was inside studying every day. The Goblet crackled a merry farewell, and that was that.