II — THE TRI-WITCH TOURNAMENT !
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'LISTEN, LISTEN, ALL I'M SAYING is Gryffindor are gonna completely fuck up all your arses.'
PJ's bold statement is almost lost to the merciless wind as the three step off the Hogwarts Express onto the platform, Leo cursing the heavy rain. The brutal September air is a noose that hangs heavy and humid, damp and deathly, water slicing from a formidable sky. Leo does not believe in omens, of course not, but watching mud swirl into the cracks of the pavement like blood leaking from a wound, she can't help thinking this is not the best way to herald in a new school year.
Fucking Scotland, she thinks, skin crawling with ice. Good to be back.
'I hate to break it to you, PJ my lovey, but you are so incorrect,' Lena says with a brightness that only Lena Karkaroff, woodland nymph, can muster in thunderstorms. 'Hufflepuff are going to kick all your butts! Kindly, obviously.'
That's when Leo realises they're talking about Quidditch. Surprise-surprise, not exactly her favourite topic of conversation.
And why, exactly, is that? Well. Quidditch, with its stupid broomsticks and stupid, stupid rules - because why it absolutely has to have three balls is completely beyond Leo Jordan - plagues her like a nightmare, throughout the school year and beyond. Because Quidditch just has to be Lee's thing, doesn't it, and doesn't Leo fucking know it; Merlin, it makes her sick, watching the entire school up his arse after every single match. Ooo, Lee, you're so funny! Not.
She even got dragged to the stupid Quidditch World Cup, which was beyond a joke, and not even because of the Death Eaters that decided to come along and crash the party. No, if anything, at least they provided some entertainment - although, admittedly, there had been one moment at the World Cup, one silvery laugh and one pair of delicate lips in the dark...
No. Don't be stupid, Leo scolds, following PJ and Lena into one of the driverless carriages. You can't think about that. You can't think about that ever again.
'I didn't even realise you gave so much of a shit about Quidditch, Karky,' PJ says, practically yelling, even though Lena is literally sat right next to her. Leo groans, covering her ears to save herself from imminent deafness. 'Got something to tell us, babes? About, I dunno, Ophelia Alder?'
Who in McGonagall's name is Ophelia Alder?
Lena flushes furiously. 'I - I don't know what you're talking about, PJ! No - no, I certainly don't like Ophelia Alder - I mean yeah, she's so pretty, oh, so ethereal, and she's such a good Chaser, and I love watching Hufflepuff matches for her - but no!'
'Aww, ickle Lennie's got a crushy-wushy,' PJ cackles wickedly, pinching Lena's cheek. 'I think I Saw her getting into the carriage in front of us, actually...'
'No, don't you dare!' Lena hisses, giving PJ's sleeve a frantic tug, but it's too late: Leo watches in secondhand embarrassment and horror as PJ rises in her seat, sticks her head out of the window and bellows to the carriage in front, 'OI, ALDER!'
And a head pokes around the window, a face adorned with a blush and an unsure smile, two long caramel-brown braids topped with a baby-blue bandana. Exactly Lena's type - although, that isn't helpful, really, because Lena is so full of love she'll fall for everyone and anyone. Which sickens Leo.
She just does not understand love at all.
Lena's buried her face fully in her hands, blush igniting her sooty freckles. Leo uses her famous brainpower to put two and two together and thinks, Ahh. That's Ophelia Alder.
'I don't blame you, Lena babes,' PJ says, collapsing back onto the seat. Her Gryffindor tie hangs untied around a bare neck, shirt collar unbuttoned to reveal an amethyst charm bouncing against her collarbone. As she lazily chews Drooble's Best Blowing Gum, bubblegum balloons flower from her chipped pearly teeth.
'She's beautiful,' Lena sighs dreamily, twirling a strand of her dark hair, 'but she'd never even look at me, I know it.'
'I'd shag her.' Leo's eyes bulge at her with disgust and PJ just shrugs. 'What? It's true!'
'Some of us just don't have your confidence, PJ,' Lena says mournfully, eyes trained on her very impractical - but pretty! - sandals. She's had to replace her floaty sweetpea skirts with Hufflepuff robes, yet she still looks angelic, her delicate silver glasses glinting molten whenever the carriage catches starlight.
'Be grateful you don't have PJ's confidence, Lena,' Leo retorts drily, ignoring the Gryffindor flipping her middle finger in protest and, instead, turning to watch Hogwarts rise from its deadly shadows.
A thousand windows shimmer like hazy constellations through the thick suffocating rain. Leo groans, hating how much it's going to ruin her perfect hair, as a ribbon of lightning curls behind the turret of Ravenclaw Tower.
'Oh, it's so wonderful!' Lena whispers, voice hushed with childlike awe.
Leo gives a half-arsed shrug. 'It's alright.'
PJ jumps off the carriage as they reach the foot of the castle, dragging a reluctant Leo and an eager Lena down with her. Rainwater cascades down their cheeks like tears, both Leo and PJ cursing the air around them blue, whilst Lena giggles, stretching out her fingers to revel in the rain.
Inside the Entrance Hall, it's like a fucking sea, which Leo can't understand for the life of her; surely someone can cast a waterproof spell? They're all magic, for fuck's sake! Impervius springs to mind, and Leo's fingers twitch around her wand - that is, until she realises that it's kind of funny, watching all these stupid kids slip and slide across the rain-stained marble. She is absolutely adamant she isn't a horrible person, sure, but with that being said... fine, she does take a morbid satisfaction from watching the prepubescent plebs of Hogwarts suffer.
Suddenly, Lena lets out a startled yelp as a large balloon of water explodes against the frills of her pale pink socks. Another balloon hits one of the Weasleys square in the face, soaking him to the skin, and Leo cackles, glancing upwards to see Peeves the Poltergeist - hovering dangerously close to her face.
A mistake he does not want to make.
'Fuck off, Peeves, or I'll make you wish you were never born, let alone died!' Leo hisses, seizing his disgustingly garish bow-tie with one hand and throttling him with the other.
He dances teasingly out of her grasp, wriggling his tongue. 'Naughty naughty Baby Jordan, did you just say a naughty naughty word?'
Leo hurls another string of curses at him and storms into the Great Hall, murmuring Impervius to dry Lena's sodden socks. See, she's not a completely horrible person! She just hates brothers. And poltergeists. Who doesn't?
(Merlin's tits, imagine how much she'd hate a brother who was a poltergeist! Lee, don't get any ideas. Quite frankly, she doesn't think she'd be able to bear it!)
The Great Hall looks, well, OK. She knows she's meant to be impressed by it, but come on, they've had the exact same decorations since she was eleven. Has nobody here heard of creativity? It's grandiose, sure, but no more spectacular than Leo's bedroom back at home, really. Besides, she'd rather be having a quiet dinner in the sanctuary of Ravenclaw Tower, without having to endure a thousand pairs of eyes, all laughing and taking the piss out of her. Baby Jordan, back at Hogwarts.
She'd rather be in Hell than here.
'We have to watch the fucking Sorting!' PJ groans melodramatically, like it's the end of the world. Typical Gryffindor. 'Can't they wait until we've eaten? I'm so hungry I could eat a Hippogriff! But I wouldn't, Lennie,' she adds quickly, clocking Lena's worry.
'The whole system of sorting eleven year olds is utterly ridiculous, anyway,' Leo says. She shoves her way to the end of the Ravenclaw table, PJ and Lena following. 'Do they really think that a child's personality can determine their attitude for the rest of their life? Per-lease!'
'I dunno,' PJ ponders, 'I was an annoying twat at eleven, so...'
'Some things don't change,' Leo snorts with a wry smile. 'Oh, please don't tell me the Hat is going to deafen us with a song.'
'Oh, shush, I like it when it sings.' Lena cups her chin contentedly in her palm, her wide eyes starry with excitement.
PJ nudges Leo's ribs, hard. 'Bet it sings better than Lee in the shower, eh?' and the three girls dissolve into silent giggles.
Yeah, technically, they're in different Houses, but so what? (What's Dumbledick going to do, expell her? When he'd let Pissy Potter get away with literal murder?) They always sit together, and they always get some funny looks, until Leo's glared at whichever second-years are getting their noses in her fucking business. Besides, terrorising children is her speciality, according to PJ, so it'd be rude not to, really.
PJ claps her hands together enthusiastically. 'Reckon it's time for PJ-Sees-The-House, don't you?'
Leo, and even Lena, both groan in protest, but PJ takes no notice, laughing with glee as the first child approaches the Sorting Hat, trembling from head to toe. 'He looks like he's gonna shit himself, doesn't he? Toilets are on the second floor, babes!' she yells, rising in her chair.
Lena pulls the sleeve of her Gryffindor robe gently; Leo, mortified, buries her face in both hands.
'Baddock, Malcolm!' calls McGonagall.
PJ scrunches up her face. 'Ooo, Gryffindor.'
'SLYTHERIN!'
'Branstone, Eleanor!'
'Defo Gryffindor this time.'
'HUFFLEPUFF!'
'Creevey, Dennis!'
'A motherfucking Gryffindor, bitches!'
'GRYFFINDOR!'
PJ roars with ecstatic triumph, pointing proudly to the middle of her forehead as if she does actually have an Inner Eye there. Which, for the record, Leo highly doubts. Her own eyes roll at PJ's pantomime and then, surveying the teacher's table, narrow at the empty chair.
'What's the new Defence professor going to be like?' she asks PJ, the latter of whom is already stuffing her face with food.
PJ groans. If there's one thing she loves-to-hate more than Seeing, it's Seeing when she's indulging in her all-time favourite pastime: eating anything she lays her eyes upon. Seriously, she'd probably eat a fucking house elf if it sat still long enough. 'He's moody,' she says finally.
'Moody?' Leo repeats. 'Moody? Fucking great. Yet another angry male Professor we have to deal with! Ooo, I can practically smell the testosterone already!'
'Never mind, Leo,' Lena says, patting her hand softly. 'You'll be better than them anyway, I know you will.'
Leo finds herself questioning for the billionth trillionth time in her life about whether or not she truly does deserve Lena. The answer is, of course, no.
Lena's right, though. She doesn't mean to sound completely big-headed, but Leo knows she's an expert in Defence. Come to think of it, her knowledge in every single subject is perfect. Hence why she got twelve perfect O.W.Ls at the end of last year, which was a big fat Fuck-You to everyone who's ever doubted her, and why she is on track to get a perfect set of N.E.W.Ts, too. Nothing in Hell - or, failing that, Hogwarts - is going to get in her way.
Let's be real: nothing would dare even attempting to get in her way.
There's a low rumble of seats scraping at the teacher table, and Leo groans internally, feigning interest in whatever that pompous prick Albus Dumbledore has to say. She is, of course, a model student!
'So! Now we are all fed and watered, I must once more ask for your attention, while I give out a few notices.'
'Just fucking get on with it, Dumbledick,' Leo murmurs. Lena's melting-chocolate eyes twinkle in amusement.
'Mr. Filch, the caretaker, has asked me to tell you that the list of objects forbidden inside the castle has this year been extended to include Screaming Yo-yos, Fanged Frisbees, and Ever-Bashing Boomerangs. The full list comprises some four hundred and thirty- seven items, I believe, and can be viewed in Mr. Filch's office, if anybody would like to check it.'
Leo grins, genuinely. 'Boo-hoo, Lee, didn't you spend all summer saving up for an Ever-Bashing Boomerang?' she mutters to herself in quiet triumph.
Sure enough - her twin brother's brow has bent in stupidly childish dismay across the hall. Pathetic.
'It is also my painful duty to inform you that the Inter-House Quidditch Cup will not take place this year.'
Well, to say Leo wasn't expecting that would be an understatement. Not that she actually gives a shit about Quidditch, obviously: how insanely idiotic would she have to be to derive pleasure from watching twats on brooms? Honestly, Leo could not give less of a shit. But it is kind of amusing - alright, hilarious - watching her brother's sulky frown turn into a full-blown temper tantrum. Boo fucking hoo.
Want your nappy changing, Lee? she mouths tauntingly across the Hall, although she isn't sure he sees. Shame. Probably too busy crying his eyes out.
'What the fuck?' PJ cries, spitting out her pumpkin juice in sheer disgust. Idly, Leo watches with her own sheer disgust as the orange liquid dribbles over starched white linen, like blood.
'Did you not See that one coming, Presley?' she taunts, ducking out of PJ's reach. Not that she's scared or anything - for all PJ's brashness, Leo knows she could have her, easy - but still. Just to be safe!
After all, it's no secret that Presley-Jade is a walking talking hazard.
'This is due to an event that will be starting in October, and continuing throughout the school year, taking up much of the teachers' time and energy — but I am sure you will all enjoy it immensely. I have great pleasure in announcing that this year at Hogwarts - '
The doors of the Great Hall bang open, accompanied by a deafening roar of thunder. Leo rolls her eyes, wishing people would just keep the fucking doors shut (because they'll let all the heat out, idiots), as every other head in the Hall whips round to the newcomer, whispers rising like lilac smoke from the tables.
Leo doesn't bother looking, naturally. Because, if she's completely honest with you, she doesn't really give a shit who it is - as long as whoever it is has the common decency to shut the fucking doors.
'Merlin's tits, he looks shit,' PJ says, not bothering to lower her voice.
'You're not much of an oil painting yourself, Presley,' Leo remarks coldly, and this is when she bothers to turn and see what all the fuss is about, and sees him: wooden foot clunk clunk clunking, grey hair glinting like poisoned silver, shrouded as a phantom in a black traveling cloak.
Lightning scissors across the ceiling, illuminating him in pearly indigo, revealing an artificial eye, electric blue, lolling to and fro amongst a tangled mesh of scars. Fuck's sake, Leo thinks, trust a man to make a ridiculously dramatic entrance. Pathetic, really.
(And, he has the utter, utter audacity to leave the doors open! Want a definition of common decency?)
'May I introduce our new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher?' Dumbledore says. Oh, fuck. 'Professor Moody.'
'Oh, he's not moody, he's Moody!' PJ says as realisation dawns, turning to Lena with cocky smugness, expecting a giggle of response - but Lena's face has been drained of all its warmth and all its magic hues; instead, her eyes are wide with supernovas of pure dread.
'Mad-Eye Moody,' she whispers, fingers clenching tight around the handle of her goblet. 'My dad...'
Leo swirls her own goblet lazily in her hand, watching the remnants of pumpkin swill amongst the golden carvings. She can't be fucked with this, if she's honest. Her mind wanders to the prospects of lessons tomorrow, of finally excelling in something, instead of feeling inadequate like she has for the entirety of the past two months... she wonders what period she'll have Arithmancy...
'You're JOKING!'
The yell startles her, causing her to jump a little in her seat - which she fucking hates. Nobody ever scares Leo Jordan, ever, not even a little bit. Her nostrils flare formidably as she scowls at the Weasley wanker, who seems to be losing his mind over something. Not that he has much of a mind to lose, anyway, but that is beside the point!
'What's he yelling about?' she scoffs. 'PJ, what in McGonagall's name has come over you?'
Because Presley looks practically constipated with joy, Leo notices, and Lena isn't much better either. Her eyes, moments ago shining with fear, now glow all rapt, as she attempts to answer Leo but is overcome with tinkling giggles, her tone laced with laughter.
Leo's not saying that she's the only sane person in the entirety of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, but she's also not not saying that...
'The Triwizard Tournament was first established some seven hundred years ago as a friendly competition between the three largest European schools of wizardry: Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang. A champion was selected to represent each school, and the three champions competed in three magical tasks. The schools took it in turns to host the tournament once every five years, and it was generally agreed to be a most excellent way of establishing ties between young witches and wizards of different nationalities — until, that is, the death toll mounted so high that the tournament was discontinued.'
Wait a minute...
'We have worked hard over the summer to ensure that this time, no champion will find himself or herself in mortal danger. The heads of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving with their short-listed contenders in October, and the selection of the three champions will take place at Halloween. An impartial judge will decide which students are most worthy to compete for the Triwizard Cup, the glory of their school, and a thousand Galleons personal prize money.'
Beauxbatons. Durmstrang. Triwizard Cup.
Sounds like a big, fat, fuck-off huge recipe for disaster to Leo, if you're asking for her oh-so-humble opinion. And, what's even worse than utter disaster? A chance for her brother to show off even more, because there's no doubt about the fact he'll try. Lee's one brain cell hears eternal glory and prize money and thinks, sign me the fuck up!
His arrogance. God, it's one of the many, many things she hates most about him. Not that she can narrow it down, actually, come to think of it...
'The delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving in October and remaining with us for the greater part of this year. I know that you will all extend every courtesy to our foreign guests while they are with us, and will give your whole-hearted support to the Hogwarts champion when he or she is selected. And now, it is late, and I know how important it is to you all to be alert and rested as you enter your lessons tomorrow morning. Bedtime! Chop chop!'
'Ooo, yay!' Lena says delightedly as they rise, finally, to leave the Hall. Leo wants her bed so bad she swears she's willing to steamroller any child that gets in her way right now. 'New friends! And Durmstrang, that means my dad... um, won't that be lovely!'
'Yeah, lovely,' PJ manages through a yawn. 'Lovely for me, when I get to batter the fucking shit out of him. Hey, why's it not called the Tri-Witch Tournament?'
'Because only men are stupid enough to enter it,' Leo retorts. She doesn't think she's ever sounded this contemptuous in her entire life - excepting whenever she's been forced to talk to Lee. Or any man, really, for that matter. But apart from that.
And yet, despite every morsel of her body screaming at her to detest it, she is far away, unable to eradicate the golden words eternal glory from her brain, no matter how hard she tries. They hang heavy like honey, as sticky and sweet and tempting.
Stupid. She forces herself to remember who she is: brilliant Leo Jordan, with a brilliant brain to match, and with it a brilliant future away from Hogwarts. Away from taunting, teasing, away from Lee. That's all she's ever wanted, and a perfect education is the only ticket to getting it.
And Leo cannot stress this enough: nothing - she repeats, nothing - is going to get in her way.
Come hell or high water. She dares them to cross her, because she will make them regret it. And she will take sheer unadulterated pleasure from doing so, you can bet on it!
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a/n
sorry this wasn't up sooner, blame my bff boris
anyways ! fleur coming in the next chap along w my fave hp character EVER yay <333 (if u know u know wink wonk) love u guys, appreciate all ur support endlessly !