Chapter 358 - – October 31st Ⅱ (2/2)
The clapping and chattering died down as everyone's attention returned the goblet. A second later, red flames burst once more as the second piece of parchment shout out of it, propelled by the flames.
”The champion for Beauxbatons,” said Dumbledore, ”is Jean Delacour!”
Delacour? Rowan intently stared at the short young man with dark-colored hair. Sure, enough she could see the tip of high-heeled boots from underneath his blue robes. Jolly, kind features growing a small pointed beard, this was indeed the future father of Fleur Delacour.
But how on earth did he score a ten? Glancing over at the beauty that was Apolline, she had no idea how Jean Delacour won the fair maiden's heart. But then again, he apparently had a deep voice. Maybe his voice was rather sexy to listen too? Still, that shouldn't have been enough to change the winds of fate in his favor...Of course, he might also have an absurd amount of luck. He'd probably been a Gryffindor had he attended Hogwarts. Then again, Hufflepuff's should never be underestimated…..they were loyal and determined.
This time the silence was so stiff with excitement that it could be tasted. The Hogwarts champion was next… At last, the Goblet of Fire sprouted red as a tongue of flame high into the air. Dumbledore pulled out the third piece of parchment. ”The Hogwarts champion,” he paused for a moment as if in disbelief, ”is Rowan Prince.”
Rowan begins to loudly choke as the entire is silent as they all turn to stare blankly at her. Suddenly, the food in her stomach begins to rapidly rise and made her regret eating so much for dinner. Hearing a gasp at her side, she turns to glance at Terry and Severus, who look exceptionally guilty. A frosty air begins to surround her as she gives them a look good enough to kill. There is no applause, but rather an angry buzzing sounds like angry bees.
”What exactly did the both of you do?!” Rowan hissed through clenched teeth.
Before either of them can answer, Dumbledore says, ”Rowan Prince. Up here if you please.”
Climbing to her feet, Rowan shoots them a final glare promising their imminent demise in the nearby future, which of course she'd get away with. Stomping in fury, she marched past them the staff table and into the smaller room, lined with paintings of witches and wizards. A handsome fire was roaring in the fireplace opposite of her. The faces in the portraits turned to look at her and began to whisper to each other.
Igor Karkaroff instantly recognized her as the Slytherin girl who'd made him most uncomfortable with her staring. While Jean Delacour knew her from the tabloids ”Are you not Rowan Prince? You should be fourteen years old. 'ow could you 'ave been chosen az the Hogwarts champion?” Igor Kararoff blinks finally in recognition of who exactly she reminded him of.
”I fear my brother and his friend had something to do with it,” Rowan angrily spat as she resisted the urge to chuck something to burn into the fireplace. The silence is rather awkward as Rowan visibly fumed while they waited for the professors and the two other judges. Both boys carefully kept a clear distance away from her the younger girl as she looked as though she was about to explode at any moment.