For everyone besides the competitors, or rather, for everyone besides the competitors who were forced against their will to compete-Harry-The Triwizard Tournament was seen as an excitement-filled competition. So contrary to Harry's anxiousness about today's events, the grounds of Hogwarts were utterly abuzz.
There were two individuals who played right in to the livelihood of the student population. Their recent methods proving them to be quite capable of becoming a very prosperous pair of bookies. Or potentially con-artists. . . it could really go either way.
The troublesome tag team of twins make their way up the hill, opposite the traffic flow. Attempting to attract any last minute betters, not that they need it what with the speed they're collecting at.
"Any bets? Any bets?" George shouts over the crowd's chatter.
"Place your bets," his twin brother, Fred, continues. "Come on!"
"Step up, mates! Don't be shy."
"Three lads."
"One lady."
"Four go down."
"But do four come up?"
Ginny Weasley brushes past her brothers, knocking into them slightly causing the two young men to turn and look at her quizzically.
"Don't be so mean," she says in somewhat of an annoyed manner before turning back around and making her way back down the hill.
Fred and George put a pause to their actions, taking their sister's suggestion into account. However the two only wait a second until she's out of earshot before simultaneously continuing up the steep hill.
"Any bets?"
"Fleur's 10-1!"
They pause once more among seeing a familiar face, the face of a one y/n Riddle. The twins exchange a glance and wonder just how much they can get out of her this time.
"y/n," Fred calls.
"Riddle," George finishes.
y/n faces the boys that call her name, her eyes immediately drifting to the portable gambling booth Fred carries around his neck.
