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"What did you do?"
"Nobody died."
"..."
"WHAT KIND OF ANSWER IS THAT?!"
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"I believe that you are invading my spot."
Betelgeuse smirked; she had just finished her Prefect duties with Cedric Diggory, with whom, surprisingly, Betelgeuse had had a pleasant conversation through their patrolling round. The Hufflepuff had confused the girl by totally evading topics as the Tournament and his rivalry with Harry Potter. Instead, he had chosen to discuss with her the new complicated sixth-year school programs.
The Black had enjoyed his company, uncharacteristically even starting a timid banter and letting herself smile at his jokes.
Cedric was a nice bloke.
Indeed he was.
But Betelgeuse was glad her Prefect duties were over. She had craved the comforting solitude of the Astronomy Tower for quite some time, and that was why she had found herself hastening up the tower's steps, counting each one of them.
The Heir of House Black had crossed the threshold of the ancient circular chamber, relishing in the cold night temperature and admiring the soft silver glow the stars above had bathed the room.
"Do I?" An amused voice shot back from the penumbra.
Betelgeuse hummed, taking unhurried steps towards the centre of the chamber. "Come forward," she commanded in a soft voice, directing her sharp grey eyes towards the farthest shadow cone in the room. "You do not belong to the darkness. And quite honestly, I can discern your flaming red mane."
The voice groaned. "Bel, you have to teach me how to blend in the obscurity."
"I fear I cannot do it. It comes with being a Black, apparently," Betelgeuse deadpanned, making Fred laugh.
A gentle breeze caressed their hair, blowing down towards the Black Lake like a lover's touch.
"You should really carry around a bloody coat, love, or a scarf at least," Fred grumbled as he eyed her up and down, noticing the lack of both.
"Yes, mother," Betelgeuse drawled, edging towards the frozen parapet.
"Ah, funny! Very funny, Black," Fred rebuked, crossing his arms and nearing the Gryffindor young woman.
"Oh?" She inquired, tilting her head towards the tall Weasley. "Are we turning back to formalities? What should I call you? Frederick? Weasley? Sir? Father?" She finished, arrogantly arching a black, slender eyebrow in challenge.
"I'd rather have you call me dadd —," Fred tried to reply, but Betelgeuse was quicker and slapped her pale hand on his mouth. She narrowed her eyes on him as she felt his lips curve in a rakish smirk against her palm.
"You are a brute, Fred."
She felt him softly encase her slender wrist with his warm hand, revealing his face. His previous smirk had vacated, leaving room for a more gentle smile. Fred looked down at her, really looked at her, admiring her beauty and grace. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on, even at that moment, slightly peeved and frowning at him.
The cold glow of the stars above cast an ethereal radiance to her fair skin and black tresses. Fred Weasley could not grasp how a person could be so wonderful and charming, and smart and witty, charismatic and enchanting. He chuckled at the confused tilt of Betelgeuse's head.
How cute, he thought.
"Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?" He spoke, startling the Black.
"Have you been reading Shakespear lately?" She asked. She sounded bewildered but somewhat intrigued.
"The Sonnet 18 may have appeared somehow into my hands," Fred replied, trying to imitate Betelgeuse's natural poised way of speech.
She shook her head, smiling. "You are a wonder, mon bonheur."
"That's new," he murmured, encircling her in his arms.
The Black hummed, propping her chin on his wool-encased chest. She watched Fred from under her long eyelashes, noticing the mesmerised and unguarded expression on his face.
"I love you."
The three words hung heavy between the two.
The stillness of the cold night pierced their minds like a frozen dagger, wounding and scarring their heart. Fred recoiled from their embrace as if an invisible foe had struck him. Betelgeuse tightened her hold on the tall young man, trapping him.
"Do not withdraw from me, Fred," she ordered as she studied his soul with her grey eyes. The boy felt all his deepest secrets could be revealed to her, but he could not escape.
"In vain have I struggled. My pureblood upbringing had ingrained in me the utmost obligation of shielding sentiments and passions. Alas, it will not do. My feelings will not be repressed any longer. You must allow me to inform you how ardently I adore and love you, Fred."
Betelgeuse knew she had left Fred speechless, so she let out an uncharacteristically girlish squeal when he seized her and, lifting her from the ground, twirled her around, laughing, shouting his happiness to the night sky, and chanting her praises.
A lone wolf howled to the moon far away in the Forbidden Forest as a solitary comet drew a perfect arch over the young couple.
That night was the witness of a new young and pure love that night.
☆☆☆
The day of the second task came, and Harry Potter was nowhere to be found. Betelgeuse followed the restless twins as they marched towards the lake. Fred and George had decided to use the occasion to their advantage, taking small bets along the way.
"Three guys!"
"One lady!"
"All four go down —"
"— But will all four come up?"
Betelgeuse looked around as she sat with the twins on the bank of the lake. The seats rose in stands that were packed to the bursting point and reflected in the lake below. The excited babble of the crowd echoed strangely across the water as the Black examined the younger champion run flat-out around the other side of the lake toward the judges, who were sitting at another gold-draped table at the water's edge.
Cedric, Fleur, and Krum were beside the judges' table, watching Harry sprint toward them.
"The boy is a menace," Betelgeuse flatly declared. The twins laughed at her comment but began booing at Ludo Bagman. The Head of the Department of Magical Games was moving among the champions, spacing them along the bank at intervals of ten feet.
"I hope he trips on his flat feet and falls into the Black Lake," George viciously wished as Fred hummed.
"Let us hope the Giant Squid will make an appearance then," Betelgeuse added, smirking at them.
"Cruel, cruel Black," Fred whispered, somewhat fascinated.
"Leave your revolting foreplay for later," George deadpanned, feigning gagging noises.
"Sonorus!" Bagman's voice shouted as his voice boomed out across the dark water toward the stands. "Well, all our champions are ready for the second task, which will start on my whistle. They have precisely an hour to recover what has been taken from them. On the count of three, then. One . . . two . . . three!"
The whistle echoed shrilly in the cold, still air; the stands erupted with cheers and applause. Betelgeuse refrained from stunning an overly animated Ravenclaw in front of her and followed Potter as he pulled off his shoes and socks, pulled something out of his pocket, stuffed it into his mouth, and waded out into the lake.
The Black's shoulders dropped as her mind went to the freshly baked pumpkin pastries she had seen on the Gryffindor table at breakfast. She regretted not having packed some.
"Here, love," a gruff voice said from her right. "Figured you'd want some," Fred commented, unwrapping a handkerchief full of said pastries.
Betelgeuse smiled, leaping forward and bringing him into a hug. Fred stilled, but after a few seconds, he hugged her back, pressing the girl to his chest.
"Get a room!" George shouted as he stole some of the pumpkin pastries from Fred's grasp.
☆☆☆
After an hour, the first champion resurfaced from the black waters. It was Cedric with a barely conscious girl.
So that is what they had to retrieve. Dumbledore has truly gone mad to allow such folly.
"Stupid git," Fred grimly muttered beside her, eyeing the Hufflepuff.
Betelgeuse sniggered, but then she was hit by a dooming epiphany. "Where is Ron? Where is your brother, Fred?"
She met the confused eyes of the taller Gryffindor, watching as the revelation sank on his face. George cursed beside her.
They waited with bathed breaths as Krum and Hermione broke the water surface, then it was Fleur's turn, alone.
Betelgeuse went to her feet. "If that senseless boy does not appear within ten minutes, I am going to use our careless Headmaster as a submarine."
"How bloody hell do you know what a submarine is?" Katie inquired as she tried to see over the crowd.
At last, Harry's head emerged from the water. He was dragging behind him Fleur Delacour's little sister and an unconscious Ron.
They all watched as Madam Pomfrey attended to the champions and their rescued loved ones until Ludo Bagman's magically magnified voice boomed out, causing the crowd in the stands to go very quiet.
"Ladies and gentlemen, we have reached our decision. Merchieftainess Murcus has told us exactly what happened at the bottom of the lake, and we have therefore decided to award marks out of fifty for each of the champions, as follows —
"Fleur Delacour, though she demonstrated excellent use of the Bubble-Head Charm, was attacked by grindylows as she approached her goal, and failed to retrieve her hostage. We award her twenty-five points." Applause from the stands.
"Cedric Diggory, who also used the Bubble-Head Charm, was first to return with his hostage, though he returned one minute outside the time limit of an hour."
Enormous cheers from the Hufflepuffs in the crowd; Betelgeuse heard the twins simultaneously scoff.
"We, therefore, award him forty-seven points."
Betelgeuse applauded.
"Viktor Krum used an incomplete form of Transfiguration, which was nevertheless effective, and was second to return with his hostage. We award him forty points."
Karkaroff clapped particularly hard, looking very superior.
"Harry Potter used gillyweed to great effect," Bagman continued. "He returned last and well outside the time limit of an hour. However, the Merchieftainess informs us that Mr Potter was first to reach the hostages, and that the delay in his return was due to his determination to return all hostages to safety, not merely his own."
"Of course," Betelgeuse sighed, rolling her eyes.
"Most of the judges feel that this shows moral fiber and merits full marks. However, Mr Potter's score is forty-five points."
Betelgeuse suppressed a smile as she observed Ron and Hermione stare at Harry, then laugh and start applauding hard with the rest of the crowd.
"The third and final task will take place at dusk on the twenty-fourth of June," Bagman continued. "The champions will be notified of what is coming precisely one month beforehand. Thank you all for your support of the champions."
"Finally," Lee declared, leading the way back to the Castle. "This bloody humidity is messing with my hair."
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Lee and his bloody precious hair.