THE GOBLET OF FIRE

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There was something scary and thrilling about being in such an unfamiliar place, where such a prestigious event was taking place. Her parents were beyond thrilled, of course, as were the many friends she left behind at Durmstrang. Frieda had to be honest with herself, though. She was nervous. Terrified, even. The Triwizard Tournament was nothing to play around with, and there was a reason only those over the age of seventeen could enter. Nonetheless, she was determined. She would bring pride and a giant trophy back to her school.

As she walked among the students to where the cup was sitting idly, waiting to gobble down the tiny slip in her hand, she wondered what she would possibly do with the winnings. She'd grown up with very humble beginnings, and money had never really been an influence in her life. But with galleons like those...she could do pretty much anything. She shook her head. She had to win first. And before that, she had to enter.

Now standing in front of the cup, she eyed it and the age line warily. This was a huge moment in her life, and she didn't want to squander it. She closed her eyes and lightly flicked her little sheet of parchment into the cup. When she opened her eyes again, she could see a flicker of writing before the paper disappeared beneath the lip of the cup.

Frieda M. Reznikov - Durmstrang

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writing her name on the piece of paper, dom felt a surge of excitement. she didn't hold out a lot of hope that she'd be chosen as the champion but just the thought of being chosen was nerve racking in one of the best ways. it was a good distraction after everything that had happened last year and she was thrilled to be able to meet some students that had attended the school that her mother had gone too. she had always wondered why her parents had decided to send her and her siblings to hogwarts but it made sense. though she had often wondered about the school her mother had talked about. walking up to the goblet as someone else walked away she stretched up and dropped the paper into the cup, the flames taking it and crackling as it burned. smiling she turned away and walked back to her group of friends, it was going to be a good year.

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the goblet of fire. maybe some people would say he was trying to follow in his father's footsteps and win the tournament but he just wanted the chance to prove to people what he could do. plus he was actually of age. not that it meant much. he wasn't sure if dusti was going to put her name in the cup, he hadn't thought to ask her. mentally he kicked himself for that, they were dating, he was supposed to think of these things. it was part of dating wasn't it? he rubbed his hand through his hair as he walked up to the goblet, the crumpled piece of paper that had his name scribbled on it falling out of his fingers as he reached up to drop the paper into the goblet. he stepped back and watched the flames for a second, the brilliant blue from them illuminating the walls around the hall as he stepped back again to let the next person put their name in.

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he'd been going back and forth in his mind over the last few days about whether or not he really wanted to try and compete in the tournament. he was going to hope there was no flying involved but if it came up he'd live with it. get on with it. or so he hoped. the thought scared him but he wasn't about to let it stop him anymore. he had his name scrawled on a piece of parchment as he made his way up to the cup. he couldn't help but think the last tournament that had been held at hogwarts had been while his father was in attendance. he chewed his lip lightly at the thought and reached up to put the name into the cup and he stepped back, watched the flames. there was no smell of smoke from the cup thank merlin, that would have been the icing on the cake, the flames were enough to trigger a memory so the smell of smoke would have been worse.

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Gaius had absolutely zero interest in participating in the Triwizard Tournament. Sure, he was the Keeper for Ravenclaw’s Quidditch team, but that was Quidditch. Quidditch was very rarely potentially fatal for the players. This was the Triwizard Tournament. Gaius was intelligent. He was healthy. He was skilled with his wand. But he was not an athlete who would be scouted for professional Quidditch teams. He was not a master duelist. And he was not experienced enough to keep his nerves in the face of the unknown. He hated liars, so he was always honest—even with himself. Frankly, he wasn’t champion material.

But none of that mattered. Because he had to show proper Pureblood pride, and so his parents had insisted that he enter his name into the Goblet of Fire. And Gaius knew he had no choice. Raven would never let him get away with not doing it, and that wasn’t even considering his inability to lie meaning they would know as soon as they asked him anyway. And when he put his name in and didn’t get picked, he’d have to deal with his family not letting that go, either. And he knew he wouldn’t get picked. He was not a champion to face down horrors in an arena. He was, at best, a man who could sleepwalk his way through politics and get things done there.

Which, he reminded himself bitterly, was the only thing his parents were proud of—that he was so good at reading the political climate. That he could help them keep Pureblood agendas afloat by figuring out when and where to push small things through the Ministry.

He should be proud.

Instead, all he felt as he walked toward the Goblet was bitterness. Another lose-lose situation, thrown at him by his family. They knew he didn’t want to enter. They knew even if he did enter, he wouldn’t get picked. And they knew that if he did get picked, he would lose. For the sake of his family’s pride, he still had to see it as far as he could—and for the sake of his family’s pride, he would be a disgrace no matter where he fell short. What was the point?

Gaius walked up to the Goblet and violently flung the scrap of parchment into it. He watched the flames flare red for a moment in acceptance, before turning and walking off.

At least they couldn’t call him a failure for not being picked until Halloween.

[Not actually eligible to be picked]

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Dastan couldn't understand why this was such a nerve-wracking thing to most people, it was ridiculous. All there was to do was walk up to the goblet and put your name in. Done. Why were people struggling so much and looking so nervous. After you put your name in, there wasn't anything else you could do. You were either chosen or you weren't. It was as simple as that. 

Still, as he sat in the room with the Goblet of Fire, he watched people as they put their names in. He was proud to see that most people from Beauxbatons and even Durmstrang were generally more confident in their approach. Still, some people putting their names into the goblet were an embarrassment, in his opinion. 

After a while, he got bored watching the other students enter their names. He rose to his feet and pulled a piece of parchment out of the pocket of his robes. His name- Dastan Oscarsson was already written on it. He strode across the room confidently, reached forward and dropped his name into the Goblet. A small smirk covered his face as he turned away from the Goblet and walked out of the room confidently. He knew he had a good chance of getting chosen and was going to act as if he already had been. There was no reason to behave otherwise.

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Lena still wasn't sure if this was what she wanted. As she walked unsteadily toward the Goblet of Fire, her knee still echoing a dull pain, she questioned whether or not she should submit her name. She knew there would be trouble if the blood purists found out that a muggleborn had put their name in the goblet. That very thought was part of the reason she wanted to add her name. Lena was stubborn, and the desire to prove that she was just as capable of competing as the other students was the force that drove her forward toward the Goblet. She looked at the little scrap of paper in her hand. Scrawled in her neat handwriting was her name and the name of her school.

Helena N. Marvelle - Hogwarts

Those few little words were just what she needed to push her the final steps to the Goblet. With only a moment's hesitation, she dropped her name in the Goblet, watched it roar with approval, and turned around, a secret smile on her lips, and walked back through the crowd of people. The deed was done. What the Goblet decided to do with it was now out of her hands. But she was proud of herself. That was all that mattered.

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The world was big and strange, but Viola was resolved to be even bigger and stranger. She wasn't going to let some idiot win the Durmstang champion position, and from what she had seen so far, none of them were exactly Triwizard Tournament material. Some of them couldn't even manage to put their name into the cup without hemming and hawing forever about it first, which was ridiculous. They had been chosen to come to Hogwarts to put their names into the Goblet of Fire - there was no choice about it. Standing there and debating whether or not they should enter was just going to put a lot of unnecessary thoughts about dying into their heads. Oh, Viola knew she could die if she was chosen. She had read the Tournament's history in her free time, and the book had even included a fancy little appendix of all the competitors who had died, alongside their school. If Viola remembered correctly, Durmstang was actually the best off when it came to fatalities. Then again, the appendix hadn't included people who were horribly injured or maimed, but whatever. Viola realized that in standing there, considering the book she had read and the facts and figures, she was becoming the kind of person that she hated. She would not be a balker - Viola Fiyero Chase did nothing halfway, least of all competing. Sure, she wasn't as competitive as some of her school mates, but the fact that she knew when she was right (and was honest enough to admit to herself when she was wrong) did give her a certain edge.

Viola's handwriting wasn't great, but it was legible, and that was all that really mattered. Her name was written on a sheet of paper she had found underneath her bed on the ship, with the first quill that she had ever purchased. Just because she knew she was a great choice for champion didn't mean that Viola wasn't at least a little bit superstitious, and she felt like the luckiness of randomly finding a piece of paper the size she needed alongside the sentimentality of her first quill - which had been used sparingly in case instances like these arose - would help give her the edge. Viola dropped her name in the cup with little fanfare, and then walked away, wondering what else she could get into before curfew.

[Deleted]

The Triwizard Tournament. Chantal had been chosen to come to Hogwarts because she was among the students who were the best prepared for it. For that reason, she was already at an advantage over the students from Hogwarts, and she felt no apprehension. There was no turning back, but she had already come all the way to a foreign school.

Adrenaline rushed through her as she walked towards the Goblet of Fire. The wait to discover whose names would be chosen would be the hardest part. All that she had to do was enter her name. With the piece of parchment already written and ready for the Goblet's consideration, she stepped across the Age Line and watched proudly as it was engulfed in the blue flames.

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Brandon came all this way for one reason. Actually, it was for many reasons. To be close to his family, to have the chance to spend his last year at Hogwarts, to make sure those he cared about were safe, just in case more attacks happened. Still, the official reason he came was the Triwizard Tournament and Brandon fully intended to do his duty and put his name in the Goblet of Fire. Still, while he had lots of friends, he wasn't one to show off in front of others. So he waited until it was late; rather, early, depending on how you looked at it. All right, it was two in the morning.

He'd been wandering around with the slip of parchment (the one he'd written his name and Durmstrang on) in his pocket. He'd been carrying it around with him all day, looking for the right opportunity. No one was around. He figured now was as good a time as any. He entered the castle and walked into the empty Great Hall. He strode across the room quietly and slipped his name in. The fire turned blue and Brandon sat down at a nearby table, watching the flames. He did it. Now only time would tell whether or not he was meant to be a Triwizard Champion.

[SUZIE]

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