Simone Martiane and the Goblet of Fire

Cho greeted me the next morning with a surly grunt that did not suit her delicate frame at all. Normally I would have made some sort of smart comment about trying out for wrestling or American football or rugby or something, but I was too busy thinking. I hadn't had much sleep the night before; I had been up all night thinking about the events of the previous night. I therefore got an hour of sleep and woke up at dawn. I sat by the window and worked on my paper so that I wouldn't wake up my classmates. The report was finished long before breakfast, and I sent it off with one of the school owls. Then I wandered around the hall until breakfast.

~~~

There was a lake on the grounds, and I'd been trying to avoid it. I'd done pretty well too. Lakes reminded me of my beloved sister. That particular morning, I was in a pensive mood and thought I'd check it out. Apart from that, I wanted to sketch the Durmstrang ship. I'd just settled down with my pen and paper when I heard a funny noise...a kind of sniffling. I looked around and found Ron Weasley, sitting in a bush, crying.

"Oh, hello," he said, wiping his eyes quickly. "What are you doing here?"

"Thinking," I answered. "And drawing. I think the question here is, why are you hiding in a bush by the side of the lake, in a bush, on a beautiful November afternoon--crying?"

Ron sighed. "It's nothing. Nothing at all." He turned his face away.

I wasn't about to let him get away that easily. I sat down on the ground next to him. (Fortunately, I had discarded my blue silk Beauxbatons robes and was wearing only my lucky jeans and favourite T-shirt.)

"Does this have to do with Harry Potter?"

Ron sighed, then nodded.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Yeah--hey, wait," said Ron, looking up at me. "Who are you and why are you talking to me?"

"My name is Simóne Martáine," I replied. "I think we met at the World Cup--well, I met your older brothers, at least."

Ron sat up a little straighter. "Which ones? I mean, I have like five..."

"Well, first I met George," I replied. "Then I met Bill and Charlie."

"The sensible one, the punk, and the dragon boy," laughed Ron. "At least you didn't meet Percy..."

"Percy Weasley," I muttered. I knew I'd heard the name before, but I wasn't sure where. "Anyway," I continued, "what's going on between you and Harry?"

Ron sighed. "He and Hermione Granger--my other friend--think it's because I'm jealous of him, but I'm not. It's that...well...I'm worried about him. I hoped that if he thought I didn't want him to compete...since I'm his best friend...he wouldn't. Then again, I guess it was too much to hope..."

I sighed. "Ron, he couldn't quit if he wanted to, which he does, actually. Binding magical contract and all that. If their name comes out of that goblet, they've got to compete. They don't have a choice. Didn't you pay attention when Dumbledore told us that first night?"

Ron gulped and put his head in his hands. "Well, now I feel really stupid. I can't just go and make up with him now--can I?"

"Well, why not?" I encouraged. "I hate to see friends fight..."

"I know, but I can't," groaned Ron. "He thinks I'm mad at him, and everybody else thinks I am too. Besides..." Ron looked up at me, and I was amazed to see tears in his eyes again. "I think this whole tournament is stupid."

I shrugged. "Then wait 'til the end of the first task." I hesitated, then decided to tell him. "I'm in much the same boat as you. Fleur Delacour is my best friend, or at least she thinks she is, but she's far too cocky and sure of herself. The last thing she needs is more publicity. If her head swells any more she won't fit in the carriage."

Ron chuckled. I continued. "But I'm originally from England. I would've gone here if I hadn't moved, so I don't know whom to support. Besides, Fleur is...erm...kind of mad at me. She thinks I'm jealous of her and that's why I'm sticking up for Harry..."

Ron looked up sharply. "Why did you move?"

"Oh..." I looked down at my lap. My eyes filled with tears. "I lost my sister. She was killed by a Death Eater. Her friend was killed too. We were so upset that we had to go to France."

"I'm so sorry," said Ron softly. "What about her friend's family?"

I looked up. "What? I'm sorry, I don't know. We broke off contact. Her friend's little brother was my best friend when I was little, but I didn't even know his address. I've long since forgotten his name. I haven't heard from him in years. Of course, I was only two or three..."

"He was a guy?" said Ron, a bit of a smile playing about his lips. "Would you date him if you ever met him now?"

"That," I said haughtily, "would depend on whether he wanted to date me and how much he's changed."

"What was he like?" Ron asked eagerly.

I had a bit of difficulty talking about my sister and my good friend, but since it took Ron's mind off his own problems I didn't mind so much. "He was tall and gangly. His hair was wiry, gingerish, brushed backwards from the temples. He had the most beautiful eyes I'd ever seen--they were huge, he was always curious about everything, and they were azure--I'm afraid there's no other word for the quality of blue of his eyes. They were a kind of deep, sparkling blue. They made me think of--of a clear evening after a perfect day, when the sun hasn't quite finished setting and the sky is that rich blue colour, and you're sitting on the beach and you look out at the horizon and the sky and sea just seem to be one endless blue--that's the colour his eyes were."

"Wow," said Ron softly. "Was he nice?"

I nodded. "He was sweet, funny, kind, and one killer chess player too. His older brother taught him to play, and I know he taught his younger brothers, if they'd sit still and listen to him."

"He sounds nice." Ron's eyes travelled back across the lake, and he drew his knees up to his chin. "I bet you miss him."

"Every day," I answered softly.

Ron looked down at his knees. "You know, my older brother Percy looks a lot like that kid you just described. He loved me--he was my favourite brother. In fact, he still is my favourite brother. After I got into Hogwarts, though, it was like--like all he had time for anymore was working. He wasn't nice to me, he yelled at me all the time, he was stuffy and boring--like he was somebody else. He was always pushing me to get my work done. It was so...so irritating...I never did figure out why he was always doing that to me and not everyone else."

I looked at Ron's red head and gave him a small smile. "Maybe he saw the potential in you."

"Potential for what?" asked Ron, his head perking up.

"The potential for great things," I answered. "Maybe he thought that you could be a great person. Maybe he saw the potential for you to be prefect, or even Head Boy someday."

Ron gave a short laugh. "Me, Head Boy? I'll never even be a prefect. The prefect is going to be Harry, I know it. He's brave, he's a hero, he's everybody's favourite student--there's no way I'll be prefect. Not over Harry. Besides, he's a school champion and a Quidditch player. I'm just--well--Ron. Just tall, skinny, redheaded, unimportant Ron, the tag-along, the youngest brother, the unimportant one."

I couldn't help noticing a trace of bitterness in his voice, and I cottoned on to what he was saying. "Then maybe you won't be prefect. You can still make your brother proud."

He looked up in surprise. "How did you know that's what I wanted to do?"

I laughed. "Please, Ron. I am a prefect, after all. I'm tipped for the next Head Girl at Beauxbatons. I work with small children, including the younger siblings and the children of prefects and Head Boys and Head Girls and Quidditch stars. I can tell when a student wants to make a favourite sibling or a parent or an aunt proud by shining in the same way they did." I studied Ron critically. "From the looks of you--and the way you keep talking--Percy was a prefect and Head Boy, but you have at least one other brother who is a Quidditch star."

Ron nodded. "My brother Charlie was a Quidditch legend. He was Seeker."

"Why are the Seekers always the legends?" I sighed. "Viktor Krum is a legend, too...and Aidan Lynch..."

Ron shrugged. "Do you play?"

I shook my head. "No, I'm just the sports journalist--and currently the overseas correspondent."

We both laughed. Ron composed himself and added, "But my brothers Fred and George--you've met them--they're Beaters on the Gryffindor team. I think--" Ron hesitated, looked up at me, and went on. "I think I'll try out for the Keeper slot next year. Angelina Johnson--she'll be the captain next year, I'm sure, or it'll be Alicia Spinnet--knows my family and might let me have the slot...if it's Fred or George I don't think they'll let me on..."

"Why not?" I asked him.

"Because they don't think that I'm capable," Ron said bitterly. "They don't think I'll be a decent player. And they're always trying to irritate me. 'Sides, all I've got is an old Shooting Star. I need a decent broom."

I smiled. "You'll have to write and tell me how it goes."

"Don't worry, I will," Ron promised.

I sighed and stretched. "Well, Ron," I told the young boy, "I'm starving, and then I have interviews to make. I'll see you after dinner." I disappeared up to the castle.

~~~

I was looking around for someone to talk to when I saw Cedric Diggory walking by. Grinning to myself, I hurried over and tapped him on the shoulder.

"I'm Simóne Martáine--remember me?" I asked him. "I'm a journalist for my school newspaper."

"Oh--you're a reporter?" he asked me, looking at my parchment pad.

"A journalist," I corrected him. "Reporters are pesky, obnoxious, and nosy. Journalists have more subtle ways of getting interviews."

Cedric raised an eyebrow. "Like grabbing people's arms as they walk down corridors?"

"Exactly," I told him, grinning. "A reporter would've just jumped in your face and asked a nosy question, like 'What colour underwear are you wearing?'"

Cedric laughed. "Okay, shoot. What do you want to ask me?"

I grinned again. It was so much easier to talk to people when they were friendly about it. "Okay, first question...what made you decide to enter the tournament?"

Cedric thought for a minute. "Well...I dunno, really. Actually, I think it was my dad. He's always pressuring me to do things, like play Quidditch. To be perfectly honest, I'd rather be curled up in the library with a good book, like Watership Down. I'm not the most athletic person in the world, in case you hadn't noticed." He indicated his stocky build, and I had to admit he didn't look much like any athlete I'd ever seen. "But Dad would've never forgiven me if I'd passed up the opportunity to compete. I put my name in just to make him happy--I never thought I'd actually make it in. Plus, I was trying to make Cho happy--she pressures me to do this sort of thing too. I suppose I could've told everyone I'd put my name in, but I'm afraid I've never been much of a liar. Everybody always knows when I lie, and I used to get smacked for it too."

I scribbled a few notes. "And what was your reaction when your name did come out of the goblet?"

"Well, like I said, I was surprised. I was also kind of upset, because it just made me realise that it was one more thing I had failed to stand up to my dad and Cho about. And...well, up until Harry came in, I was the youngest one. I just turned seventeen. Krum is eighteen or nineteen, and Fleur is..."

"She's eighteen too."

"Right, well, I was the youngest one there until Harry showed up, and I felt...I dunno, like a baby or something. Like I was stupid to enter this competition to please my dad, a competition where I would probably not know anything. Who knows what I'll be up against? And I'll be armed with just my wand, up against the unknown, probably something big and deadly. It feels like I'm trying to fight a troll with a toothpick."

Cedric had brought up a question I'd been wanting to ask, and now I had the perfect opportunity. "What do you think about Harry competing? How do you think he got in?"

Cedric bit his lip in thought. "Well...I dunno. It makes me feel a little better--I'm not the youngest after all. And Dumbledore didn't try to get Harry out of it, which makes me feel better too. If Dumbledore is letting Harry compete, it means that he must think Harry can handle whatever we'll be up against. And if a fourteen-year-old can handle it, I guess I can too. As for how he got in...well, McGonagall's right, if Dumbledore believes he didn't do it, it should be good enough for the rest of us too. Someone--maybe a Slytherin--probably put his name in as a cruel joke. Maybe it was Karkaroff. You and Moody are right, it had to have been an adult or really advanced student, because that's a powerful spell. Slytherins seem to know a lot about dark magic--maybe that Draco Malfoy character did it."

"I see," I said, scribbling notes again. The Draco Malfoy thing made sense. He had, after all, wanted Angelina Johnson to be the champion for Hogwarts--maybe he'd decided they needed a Gryffindor after all and submitted Harry's name in as security? "And what is your opinion on these?" I tried to keep the disgust out of my voice as I produced a small badge. In luminous letters, it read Support Cedric Diggory--the REAL Hogwarts champion! I pushed a smaller button on the top of it, and the letters changed to read POTTER STINKS.

"What are those?" he asked, sounding taken aback and appalled. "I've never seen them before! That's preposterous!"

I scowled. "One of the Slytherins gave it to me. He looked pretty terrified when I told him I was from Beauxbatons, not Hogwarts. They're all wearing them now."

Cedric's scowl mirrored my own. "If Cho wears one of those..." he said grimly, letting the threat hang.

I nodded. "One more question--really doesn't have to do with anything I've asked you so far, but..." I pulled out another brightly-coloured badge, one Hermione Granger had given me earlier that day. Four letters were emblazoned on it--S.P.E.W.

"'Spew'?" Cedric frowned, studying the badge. "Oh...S.P.E.W." He looked up at me. "What does it mean?"

"Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare," I said, hiding a grin. "Hermione Granger is head and chair."

Cedric studied the badge again. "Dad's head of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, he'd kill me if I joined something like this...so would Cho..." Suddenly he grinned maliciously. "How do I sign up?"

I grinned, too. "Talk to Hermione. She'll sign you up."

"Great," Cedric said, still grinning. "I am taking charge of my life from now on. Cho and Dad will not govern my decisions any more." He handed my badge back and wandered off in search of Hermione.

"Well," I said to myself, "that's two jobs worked on--Head Journalist at Beauxbatons, and Assistant Recruiting Officer of S.P.E.W." I grinned again and went into the Great Hall for lunch.