Even after the Halloween feast began, Hagrid remained the center of attention. A gaggle of girls could be found openly staring at him and blushing shyly afterward. Hagrid was going to be very, very popular with the female population after this. It ought to be interesting, to say the least.
In honor of having Beauxbatons and Durmstrang with them the house elves had prepared a delicious array of food belonging to those regions of the world. From France, there is Ratatouille, Quiche, Gratin Dauphinious, Duck Confit, Souffle, and other traditional dishes. From Italy, there is Risotto, Arancini, Carbonara, Pizza, Bistecca alla Fiorentina, and many more dishes. From Germany, there is Sauerbraten, Rouladen, Schnitzel, Käsespätzle, and countless other dishes along with dishes from Northern Europe.
Rowan moaned in delight at the delicious tastes and managed to eat three entire plates of food. She licked her plate clean and her eyes all but glowed at spotting all the wonderful desserts that followed. There was Crème Brule, Tarte Tatin, Pain au Chocolat, Gelato, Tiramisu, Black Forest Gateau, and countless more dishes. Letting out a sigh of joy, she somehow against impossible odds managed to eat two more dishes of desserts filled to the brim.
Bethanie, Tiffany, and Silvia were all a little green upon seeing Rowan, Severus, and Terry, somehow manage to eat more than three dishes per person. In fact, they couldn't help but wonder where in Merlin's name it would all fit! This was true considering how slender Rowan, Severus, and Terry looked.
While the students greatly enjoyed the feast most of the 7th-year students seemed rather impatient for the meal to come to an end. As most of the students finished eating, many students seemed to crane their necks and fidget just waiting for Dumbledore to finish eating. At long last, the golden plates were cleared as the whispers instantly died away.
Rising to his feet Dumbledore, Professor Vulchanova and Madam Maxime remained seated and gazed expectantly at their students. On either side of them, Dano Amundsen beamed and winked at the student body in good nature, while Stephen Flint remained rather stoic.
"Well, the goblet is almost ready to make its decision," Professor Dumbledore graciously announced. "I estimate that it requires one more minute. Now, when the champion's names are called, I would ask them please to come up to the top of the Hall, walk along the staff table, and through into the next chamber," – he indicated the door behind the staff table – "where they will be receiving their first instructions."
Dumbledore 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 are almost painful to the eyes.
Everyone seemed to be holding their breath as they watched and waited. The seconds seemed to be minutes as more than one student kept glancing at their watches to see the time. Even Rowan was no exception as she was just as curious as everyone else to find out who would be the champions to compete in the Triwizard Tournament.
The flames inside the goblet turned suddenly red again. Sparks began to fly and form in the air. The next moment, a tongue of flame shot into the air, and a charred piece of parchment fluttered out of it as 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, and white.
"The champion for Durmstrang," he read, in a strong, clear voice, "will be Igor Karkaroff."
A polite applause fills the Hall as those from Durmstrang cheer for him, while there is a loud chorus of snickers and smirks on the Slytherin faces, especially that of Delilah Pizarro. Professor Vulchanova didn't seem rather pleased, but nevertheless, he politely clapped along with the rest. Igor Karkaroff rises from the end of the Slytherin table and proudly marches past the staff table and disappears through the door into the next chamber.
The clapping and chattering died down as everyone's attention returned to the goblet. Second later, red flames burst once more as a 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 to? 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 would have probably been a Gryffindor had he attended Hogwarts. Then again, Hufflepuffs 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… After a moment of silence, 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 began to rise back up and immediately made her regret having eaten 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 near future which of course she would get away with. Stomping away in fury, she marched past them to the staff table and into the smaller room, lined with paintings of witches and wizards. A handsome fire was roaring in the fireplace on the other end of the chamber. The faces in the portraits turned to look at her and began to whisper to each other.
Igor Karkaroff instantly recognized her as the younger Slytherin female student who had made him most uncomfortable with her intent stares. On the other hand, Jean Delacour recognized the student from the tabloid. "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.