▬▬▬▬▬ CHAPTER SEVEN ▬▬▬▬▬

The fanatic Draco x Essie shipper has not spoken to me since they sent me that weird-ass message yesterday. I feel like they probably saw the last chapter and decided to keep their mouth shut 😂 

EVERYONE WOKE UP EARLY THE next morning, which was a miracle since today was a Saturday and everyone always slept in late. What made this particular Saturday so special was that this would be the day where students could put their name in the goblet, so naturally, everyone wanted to be early to watch.

Before Esmerelda could even finish her egg and cheese sandwich, all of the Durmstrang boys had already put their names in. So far, nobody from Hogwarts, save for Angelina from Gryffindor, had put their name in. She looked around for Cedric, but he wasn't around.

He's probably still sleeping, she thought.

She was just about to return to her meal when a certain red-headed twin sauntered up to the Age Line. It was Fred Weasley and he looked pretty confident even though he wasn't seventeen yet. According to the Gryffindors though, he and his brother had taken an Aging Potion.

She set her sandwich down and watched.

Fred walked right up to the edge of the line and stood there, rocking on his toes like a diver preparing for a fifty-foot drop. Then, with the eyes of every person in the entrance hall upon him, he took a great breath and stepped over the line.

A second passed and nothing happened. George let out a yell of triumph and leapt in after Fred, but suddenly there was a loud sizzling sound, and both twins were hurled out of the golden circle as though they had been thrown by an invisible shot-putter. They landed painfully, ten feet away on the cold stone floor, and to add insult to injury, there was a loud popping noise, and both of them sprouted identical long white beards.

The entrance hall rang with laughter. Even Fred and George joined in once they had gotten to their feet and taken a good look at each other's beards.

"I did warn you," said a deep, amused voice, and everyone turned to see Professor Dumbledore coming out of the Great Hall.

He surveyed Fred and George, his eyes twinkling. "I suggest you both go up to Madam Pomfrey. She is already tending to Miss Fawcett, of Ravenclaw, and Mr. Summers, of Hufflepuff, both of whom decided to age themselves up a little too. Though I must say, neither of their beards is anything like as fine as yours."

Fred and George set off for the hospital wing, accompanied by Lee, who was howling with laughter. As they left, the students from Beauxbatons were coming through the front doors from the grounds. Those gathered around the Goblet of Fire stood back to let them pass, watching eagerly.

Madame Maxime entered the hall behind her students and organized them into a line. One by one, a good majority of the Beauxbatons students stepped across the Age Line and dropped their slips of parchment into the blue-white flames. As each name entered the fire, it turned briefly red and emitted sparks.

Bernadine was among them and her face was positively beaming as the flames ate her name up. She spoke excitedly to several of her friends before they retreated to the Ravenclaw table to eat. Her younger brother, Étienne didn't seem to care much though, since he had glanced over with a bored expression before stuffing his face with a chocolate stuffed croissant.

Esmerelda could relate to the sentiment. She resumed to eating her sandwich too.

About five minutes later, Cedric came stumbling into the Great Hall. He looked as if he had just woken up and then, upon realizing how late it was, came sprinting to the Hall as fast as he could. His once-fluffy looking hair had some tangles here and there, and he was still wearing his pajama shirt over his trousers. What was even funnier was that peeking out from his shoes was a pair of polka-dotted ankle length fuzzy socks.

He hurried over to her, his face flushed as he tried to ignore the giggles aimed at him.

"I woke up late!" He said miserably.

"Nice socks," was all she said back.

"Oh Merlin," he plopped down beside her and tried to fix his hair. "Has—has anyone put their names in?"

"Everyone from Durmstrang, and everyone from Beauxbatons except for this one guy. I think he was underage. Don't know why he's here then..." She trailed off.

Cedric seemed to understand who she was referring to. "Oh, are you talking about Étienne Rosier? Well, he's the younger brother of the French Minister of Magic, it's only natural he gets the privilege to come. Plus, his older sister's of age, so he could possibly watch her if she's picked for Champion. You know, support her and all." 

"Ohhhh," she nodded in understanding. "Well, as for Hogwarts, I only know about Angelina from Gryffindor. The Weasley Twins tried with an Aging Potion, but they grew beards and failed."

"Do you have a parchment or—or a quill?" Cedric asked, looking ten seconds away from panicking. "Bloody hell, I forgot to bring one with me!"

"Relax," she said soothingly. She had brought her backpack out since she had been planning on finishing up some homework right after breakfast. She pulled out a scrap of notebook paper and handed him a pencil.

He blinked. "Um, what's that pink thing—?"

"It's an eraser," she explained shortly. "Now go and write your name!"

"Okay, okay!" Clumsily, since he had never used a pencil before, he scrawled his name on the notebook paper. He froze and looked at her. "Do—do I look okay? Should I go back to my dorm and change or—?"

"—Oh my gods," she groaned. "You look... somewhat presentable. You'll be fine, okay?"

"Right, right," he smoothed his hair down once more before grabbing his scrap of paper. He rose to his feet, catching the attention of everyone in the room. His face grew even redder since he wasn't exactly wearing decent clothes. But he straightened up his back and strode forward. He cautiously stepped through the age line, as if half-expecting himself to be thrown back. When nothing happened, he exhaled and tossed his name in.

Everyone broke out into applause. Cedric retreated back to the Hufflepuff table with a bright smile.

"I did it," he said breathlessly. "I hope I get picked."

"I'll be rooting for you," she grinned, patting him on the back. "By the way, you have some dried drool on the side of your mouth."

╞═════𖠁𐂃𖠁═════╡

It took Esmerelda a painstaking five hours to finish all her homework due on Monday. Ever since she promised her dad to work harder on her grades, she had been trying to uphold on that promise by not procrastinating and not half-assing her answers, but woooow did she hate homework.

She was hungry now and she had probably missed the start of lunch too. Hopefully there was still some food for her because she was way too drained to Mist travel over to the closest pizza place.

As she was trudging to the Great Hall, she heard several voices. One of them was very familiar.

"My mother informed me that you were coming," she heard Draco's sneering voice. "She said that you and your siblings were my first cousins once removed or something like that. To be frank, I was going to welcome you to Hogwarts personally, but you aren't even worth it. I heard you were a bastard child. Might not even be a pureblood. Is that true?"

"That's what I'm famous for, yes," came a forcefully steady voice. It was a boy, but his British accent sounded slightly French. One of the Beauxbatons kids then.

Esmerelda peeked over the corner of the hallway and blinked in surprise. Draco was talking to Étienne Rosier, and the guarded expression on the latter's face told her that he was used to people coming up to him to scream, 'bastard child'.

"Bernadine is pureblood and she's not a bastard kid either, so why don't you go talk to her instead of bothering me?" Étienne said tightly. "I actually have things to do unlike you."

"I'm not done here," Draco said coldly. "Who's your mother then? She must have been quite something if your father felt the need to have an affair. Why didn't she keep you? Didn't want you, huh, or—"

"—Draco," Esmerelda said curtly as she stalked forward. Once she reached them, she pinched Draco's ear harshly and scolded, "Invasive much? Why do you feel the need to know everything about him? You're not some sort of stalker, so stop that!"

"Would you let go?!" He hissed at her, but she didn't pull away.

She gave him a really displeased look before facing Étienne. The steely, guarded expression he previously wore had completely wiped away and he actually looked extremely relieved that she came to his rescue. Like if she had been a second too late he would've caved in and burst to tears.

"Sorry about him," she told him, giving him a comforting smile. "Draco's my cousin too, unfortunately. Our parents are cousins and stuff so yeah."

"S-so you're my cousin too then?" He asked in a hopeful sort of voice.

"Uh... I dunno? Probably. Your dad's a pureblood and all, right? All purebloods were screwing each other in the past so we're probably related somehow." She shrugged. "Anyways, don't take what Draco said to heart. He's a jerk. Not a lot of people here really care about blood status. As for his over-dramatic 'bastard child' spiel, well, I'm a bastard kid too and nobody really cares."

Draco finally managed to free his poor ear. His face was red by then, either from the embarrassment from being scolded like a child, or anger for the very same reason.

"That's because they're more concerned with the fact that your father's a mass murderer!" He said scathingly.

Étienne looked alarmed.

"Don't worry, I didn't inherit his 'mass murderer' genes," she assured him. "If I did, I would've butchered this little brat ages ago."

Draco harrumphed indignantly. "The two biggest degenerates of pureblood society," he said nastily. "You two are perfect for each other." And then, he stormed away.

Esmerelda watched him go with a roll of her eyes. "He is such a drama queen..."

"He's not wrong though," Étienne mumbled beside her. "We are degenerates... or at least, I am."

She turned to him and pursed her lips. The face he was wearing reminded her of a puppy who had been kicked down one too many times and had long since given up on trying to find someone to love him.

"Screw Pureblood society," she told him. "It's archaic, sexist, racist, and full of corruption anyways."

"Not a lot of people believe that..." He mumbled.

"Forget them, then." She said. "I'm Esmerelda Black, by the way. But you can just call me Essie."

"Étienne Rosier," he introduced himself. His name sounded ten times more fancier in that French accent of his. 

He reached out to offer her his hand and she shook it, unable to keep the impressed smile off her face. So proper, she couldn't help but think. 

"So, er, you're the daughter of Sirius Black?" He asked nervously. 

No, his younger brother, she wanted to say, but she couldn't.

Instead, she just nodded.

"I remember you," he said. "Back at the Quidditch World Cup. You were at the Top Box and Minister Fudge—"

"—Freaked out? Yeah, I remember that too. Good times." She scowled at the memory. She still couldn't believe that Magical Britain was being led by that moron. Judging from the conversation she heard between him and Snape last year, he was the type to only care about appearances. Other than that, he pretty much seemed pathetic.

"About the World Cup..." He trailed off.

She sighed in annoyance. "No, I did not conjure up the Dark Mark."

"I wasn't going to ask that," he said hastily, as if sensing her displeasure with the topic. "It was about what happened at the Top Box, I think you—"

He was cut off by a loud growl coming from Esmerelda's stomach. Her cheeks pinked in embarrassment and she placed a hand over her empty belly.

"Ugh, sorry... I'm really hungry, I was in the middle of heading over to the Great Hall for lunch—"

"—I'll come with you!" He exclaimed, and immediately joined her side as she started walking towards the Hall's direction.

She blinked in confusion, but didn't refuse him. "Uh... okay...?" 

Étienne didn't leave her side even after that. He was actually quite clingy with her. Esmerelda couldn't even be annoyed by him, because it honestly seemed to him that he had no other friends.

She liked to think that he had some, that they were just in Beauxbatons all the way in France and couldn't come with him since they weren't part of the French delegates. However, she had seen how some of his own school-mates treated him. They weren't cruel like Draco, but they didn't seem to want him around either. Especially his sister, Bernadine. Every time the two were in the same room, a cold look would come over the blonde's pretty face and she'd be moody until Étienne finally left or she did. 

She remembered how Draco reacted to finding out about Étienne being the product of an affair, and how Étienne really seemed to believe he was a 'degenerate' just because of that. Did something like that really matter so much to these people? And why were they treating Étienne like this as if he was the one at fault? He wasn't the one who cheated... he hadn't asked to be born...

Not even his own family seemed to like him, she realized, a painful pang coming to her heart. She remembered all of his siblings' displeased looks whenever he was so much as mentioned. The way they didn't seem to mind when he pretty much tried to isolate himself from them. The only one who seemed to like having him around was his father, Lazare, but the guy seemed completely blind to what his blatant favoritism was doing to his family.

He hung around her until it was time for the dinner to start. Wearing the expression of a kicked puppy, he sadly retreated over to the Ravenclaw table with the other Beauxbatons kids before he suddenly got the courage to change his mind mid-way. He glanced over and gave Esmerelda an almost pleading look. When she nodded and gestured him over, he practically scampered to her side like a happy puppy.

"Ced, this is Étienne. Étienne, this is Cedric. He put his name in the goblet and is hoping to be picked," she introduced them to each other.

Rather than giving one another a nod or a fist-bump like most 'bros' their age would do, they actually reached out for a handshake as if they were gentlemen in a business meeting. Esmerelda almost snorted at how proper and professional they were. It was actually kind of impressive.

"Good luck," Étienne said good-naturedly. "I hope you get picked then."

"Your sister put her name in too, correct? I hope she gets picked as well. It'd be an honor to compete against her," Cedric said with a smile.

Étienne's face fell for a fraction of a second before it was back again. He nodded in response before beginning to eat.

It was their second feast in two days and Esmerelda certainly wasn't complaining. She was especially fond of this French dish whose name she couldn't pronounce no matter how much she tried. It was this sort of rich, spicy stew or soup made with various kinds of fish.

"Hey, Étienne," she tapped the boy's shoulder. "Uh, what's this dish called again?"

"Bouillabaisse," he replied flawlessly. The upper corners of his lips rose when he noticed her utterly puzzled expression. "Can't pronounce it, huh?"

"French is a mystery to me," she said airily.

"I feel the same about English. More specifically, about some states in America. Why is Kansas called Kansas, but Arkansas is pronounced Ark-kan-saw and not Ark-kan-sas?"

Cedric stopped to eat and looked at her expectantly, as if wanting to know too.

"Er..." She'd have to ask Annabeth later. "Okay, you have a point."

Étienne chuckled before a sudden thought came to him. "Speaking of America... I noticed you have an American accent. Are you a transfer from Ilvermonry or...?"

"Oh, no, um," she said lamely. "Uh, it's kind of a weird story. I live in New York, but I got my Hogwarts letter anyways. I don't really know why, neither do the professors. Maybe it's because I was born in the UK?"

Technically she was born in the Underworld, but whatever.

Cedric looked thoughtful. "Yeah, that could be it."

After about twenty minutes of eating and random chatter, they were all finished. In fact, the three of them were one of the last to finish since they were so immersed in conversation. It seemed like everyone else had eaten quickly because of how impatient they were.

Everyone else in the Hall, judging by the constantly craning necks, the impatient expressions on every face, the fidgeting, and the standing up to see whether Dumbledore had finished eating yet, simply wanted the plates to clear, and to hear who had been selected as champions.

At long last, the golden plates returned to their original spotless state; there was a sharp upswing in the level of noise within the Hall, which died away almost instantly as Dumbledore got to his feet. On either side of him, Professor Karkaroff and Madame Maxime looked as tense and expectant as anyone. Ludo Bagman was beaming and winking at various students. Mr. Crouch, however, looked quite uninterested, almost bored. Esmerelda wondered if he had ever experienced any fun in his life.

"Well, the goblet is almost ready to make its decision," Dumbledore said. "I estimate that it requires one more minute. Now, when the champions' names are called, I would ask them please to come up to the top of the Hall, walk along the staff table, and go through into the next chamber," He indicated the door behind the staff table. "Where they will be receiving their first instructions."

He took out his wand and gave a great sweeping wave with it; at once, all the candles except those inside the carved pumpkins were extinguished, plunging them into a state of semidarkness.

The Goblet of Fire now shone more brightly than anything in the whole Hall, the sparkling bright, blue-whiteness of the flames almost painful on the eyes. Everyone watched, waiting... A few people kept checking their watches obsessively.

Cedric was clenching his fists so tightly that his knuckles had turned stark white. His face was a cross between anxiety and hopefulness.

The flames inside the goblet turned suddenly red again. Sparks began to fly from it. Next moment, a tongue of flame shot into the air, a charred piece of parchment fluttered out of it. The whole room gasped.

Dumbledore caught the piece of parchment and held it at arm's length, so that he could read it by the light of the flames, which had turned back to blue-white.

"The champion for Durmstrang," he read, in a strong, clear voice. "Will be Viktor Krum."

A storm of applause and cheering swept the Hall. Esmerelda saw Viktor Krum rise from the Slytherin table and slouch up toward Dumbledore. He turned right, walked along the staff table, and disappeared through the door into the next chamber.

"Bravo, Viktor!" Boomed Karkaroff, so loudly that everyone could hear him, even over all the applause. "Knew you had it in you!

The clapping and chatting died down. Now everyone's attention was focused again on the goblet, which, seconds later, turned red once more. A second piece of parchment shot out of it, propelled by the flames.

"The champion for Beauxbatons," Dumbledore began "Is Fleur Delacour!"

A very beautiful girl with blonde, almost silvery hair gracefully rose to her feet and walked between the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables. Esmerelda glanced over to Bernadine and in the corner of her eyes, she saw Étienne doing the same too. Bernadine looked greatly disappointed but at least she wasn't crying like one of her school-mates was doing.

"Sorry about your sister," Cedric said to Étienne, but the younger boy clearly didn't care.

"No, it's fine," he said with a bright smile. "She'll get over it."

When Fleur Delacour too had vanished into the side chamber, silence fell again, but this time it was a silence so stiff with excitement you could almost taste it.

"The Hogwarts champion is next!" Esmerelda squealed giddily to Cedric. He was so tense that he was breathing heavily, his wide eyes plastered onto the cup.

The Goblet of Fire turned red once more; sparks showered out of it; the tongue of flame shot high into the air, and from its tip Dumbledore pulled the third piece of parchment.

"The Hogwarts champion," he called, "Is Cedric Diggory!"

Esmerelda jumped to her feet. "YEEEES!"

Étienne was so startled by her sudden screaming that he nearly dropped his croissant.

The Hufflepuff table burst into a massive uproar of support. Every single Hufflepuff had jumped to his or her feet, screaming and stamping, as Cedric made his way past them, grinning broadly, and headed off toward the chamber behind the teachers' table. Indeed, the applause for Cedric went on so long that it was some time before Dumbledore could make himself heard again.

"Excellent!" Dumbledore cried out happily the tumult finally died down. "Well, we now have our three champions. I am sure I can count upon all of you, including the remaining students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, to give your champions every ounce of support you can muster. By cheering your champion on, you will contribute in a very real—"

But Dumbledore suddenly stopped speaking, and it was apparent to everybody what had distracted him.

The fire in the goblet had just turned red again. Sparks were flying out of it. A long flame shot suddenly into the air, and borne upon it was another piece of parchment.

Automatically, it seemed, Dumbledore reached out a long hand and seized the parchment. He held it out and stared at the name written upon it. There was a long pause, during which Dumbledore stared at the slip in his hands, and everyone in the room stared at Dumbledore.

And then he said a name that Esmerelda wasn't expecting to hear:

"Harry Potter."

Every head instantly swiveled to face the aforementioned boy. Esmerelda read his face analytically. At first, Harry was staring blankly at the piece of parchment Dumbledore was holding, and then he furrowed his brows in confusion. A second later, a look of utter terror took over his expression as he finally registered what was going on.

There was no applause. A buzzing, as though of angry bees, was starting to fill the Hall. Some students were even standing up to get a better look at him as he sat, frozen, in his seat.

"Harry... Potter?" Étienne frowned. "But he is not..."

"No," she agreed. "He's underage. There's no way he could've gotten passed the age line... Something's going on..."

He gave her a weird look, but she wasn't paying any attention. Why had Harry's name been called? The goblet would only accept one student per school and it had already chosen Cedric... Unless... unless whoever put his name in the goblet put it under a forth school...

Oh Harry, she thought, feeling tremendously bad for the kid. Why can't the Fates give you a break?

At the top table, Professor Dumbledore had straightened up, nodding to Professor McGonagall.

"Harry Potter!" He called again. "Harry! Up here, if you please!"

She watched as Harry rose to his feet. He had gone numb with shock and his face had been drained of all color as he slowly crossed the Hall. He moved off along the teachers' table, then went through the door out of the Great Hall like all the other previous Champions had done.

Whispers rose once he was gone. None of them good.

"I can't believe it," one disbelieving student said.

"He put his name in the goblet!" One accused.

"Why's he always trying to snatch every bit of fame he can?"

"How did he even manage to do that?"

"Didn't he realize he'd be caught?"

"He's already famous and rich enough."

"Poor Cedric..."

It seemed like she was the only one who seemed to believe in Harry's innocence. Esmerelda wanted to snap at them. Hadn't they seen the pure fear plastered literally all over his face? And why on earth would he plan this knowing that he'd get in trouble?

She glanced over at the Gryffindor table. Hermione looked worried as she stared at the door Harry had walked through. Meanwhile, Ron was looking blankly at his empty plate. Hopefully those two knew Harry was innocent.

"Come on you guys, knock it off," she scolded some of her House mates. "Didn't you see how scared Harry was?"

"He was only scared because he knew he screwed up," Justin huffed.

She rolled her eyes. Oh not this shit again. She thought in annoyance. 

"Why would he do this if he knew he was going to get in trouble?" She questioned, frowning at all of them. "Don't you guys see how illogical you sound? Remember second year when you all thought Harry was the one petrifying people just because he was Parseltongue? Why would he out himself like that if he was the actual heir?"

Poor Étienne looked so confused and only grew more lost when she mentioned the whole 'Parseltongue' and 'heir of Slytherin' thing. He was still trying to follow the conversation though.

Some of the Hufflepuffs had the decency to look guilty, but a majority of them didn't seem to care.

"He's stealing Cedric's thunder!" One complained, and a lot of them chimed in agreement.

"I give up. It's like they don't have any brain cells." She huffed, crossing her arms in frustration.

"Um," Étienne spoke up meekly. "I don't really know Harry Potter that well... or at all really, but you do bring up good points... I think you're right."

"Finally," she sighed in relief, sending him a grateful look. "Someone with a brain."

But unfortunately, Étienne was the only siding with her. Esmerelda was left to fume silently as she listened to each of her House mates further slander Harry. 

— author's note —

No assassination attempts this time. "Moody" was too busy planning the whole 'get Harry to join the tournament against his will and help him throughout the entire thing in the hopes that he would somehow make it to the very end so my master could take his blood' plan.

That plan was so weird and convoluted. Why couldn't he just magically give Harry a nose bleed and steal the hankie he used or something like that? Like why XD that plan was so weird... Plot-wise it was okay, but if you think about it logically than none of it would make any sense

Why are Death Eaters so extra 😂 😂 😂

Okay everyone, genealogy time! I'm making you all suffer through this because I did.

Here is the Black Family Tree:

In the second to last line, it shows Cygnus Black and his wife Druella Black. They are Bellatrix, Andromeda, and Narcissa's parents. Lazare is the younger brother of Druella, making him the maternal uncle of Bellatrix, Andromeda, and Narcissa. He is also the maternal great uncle of Tonks and Draco.

So judging by the picture, the Rosiers have no relation to Essie and I thought that too BUUUUUT I realized something: the family tree JK provided us with only starts out with Phineas Nigellus Black and his siblings, but obviously there's more people way before that.

Purebloods don't give a shit about incest, but back in the middle ages incest was wincest to them. Bitches were crazy for it. I'm pretty damn sure they just went around banging every other Pureblood here and there whether they were related or not all for the sake of bLOod PuRiTY, so I wouldn't be surprised if there were actually more Rosiers in the family tree. Besides, Sirius canonically stated that all the Purebloods were related to each other (distantly or closely, either way) so yes, Essie is a distant cousin to Étienne.

There was literally no point in me writing this all out for you guys. I just did it anyways because I kept stressing myself out about the Black-Rosier family tree so I figured you should all read about my thought-process lol

So how do you feel about my newest OC, Étienne??? I know some of you guys don't like stories with too many OCs but he's not really a major one. I do have... plans for him and Essie tho. 😈 😈 😈 His main purpose is to help Esmerelda realize some things that will be important in the future... 😈 😈 😈 😈 he's a catalyst for something. You'll realize what I mean later on. As for now, you're all free to guess!

Anyways, I need some help with casting. I was originally gonna have Jorge Lopez for Leo Valdez but I've been reading some fanfics lately and I noticed that people like to cast Benjamin Wadsworth for him and now I can't decide between the two.

Jorge Lopez is latino and he's got some of Leo's looks like the curly hair and shit, but he looks too old... Then there's Benjamin Wadsworth. He gives me some Leo vibes too, but idk if he's even latino. He looks like an actual teenager at least. But neither of them are scrawny kings tho ☹️

So who would you guys prefer to play as Leo? 

Jorge Lopez: 

or Benjamin Wadsworth: