September 1st, 1995
Dense clouds of mist billowed from the scarlet steam engine of the Hogwarts Express. Through its thickness, the many Hogwarts students and parents on the platform appeared like dark ghosts. Tristan followed his excited younger siblings with long strides, remaining next to his parents.
They seemed even more cautious than usual. Both of them turned their heads frequently, lingering in their step anytime they passed other families and seemingly listening to their goodbyes.
'Is something going on?' Tristan watched as his parents exchanged yet another glance. Both of them seemed a tad more relieved and allowed the tension to stack. 'How strange.'
His family separated from the main crowd. Valeria and Galahad pushed their trolleys along the platform to the front of the Express where most of the compartments were still empty. Here they had a chance to say their goodbyes.
"Make sure you all look out for each other." His mother very reluctantly released Galahad from her tight embrace, brushing a loose ebony curl off his forehead as she did so. "And don't go looking for trouble, young man. If I catch but a whiff of you actually competing in Sirius' prank bets, I'll be apparating straight to the gates of Hogwarts to take you back home."
"I'll be fine, Mother." Galahad rolled his eyes and pried himself out of her arms: "If you keep holding on to me I'll miss the train anyway and you won't have to come up there."
"On you go then, all of you." His mother smiled warmly, blinking away a tear: "We love you so much! Don't forget to write to us."
"We wouldn't dream of it!" Valeria chirped, one foot already on the step leading onto the Express. "Love you too! See you around Christmas, bye!"
His siblings vanished behind the door, shooting one last grin at their parents through the window before stepping into the closest compartment.
Tristan chuckled, turning to follow them at a calmer place when his father called out once more. "Tristan!"
"Yes, Father?"
"Take good care of your siblings this year, please."
The shrill whistle blew behind him, families quickly separated all along the edge of the platform
"I will," Tristan promised before he climbed on board, closing the door behind him. "I always do."
The pistons hissed loudly and the train began to move. His parents remained on the platform, waving arm in arm. The moment the Express left King's Cross, thick rain splattered the windows and made it difficult to see them. Eventually, their blurry figures faded away as the train rounded the corner.
"What took you so long?" Aurelia questioned him when he entered the compartment.
"I had to ask Father for permission to hex any boy that might ask you on a date to Hogsmeade," he shrugged, sitting down across from her and stretching out his legs. "He was quick to grant it."
"You're a prat." Valeria glared at him while Galahad chuckled.
"And you'll have to wait two more years until I'm out of Hogwarts before going to Madam Puddifoot's with anyone."
"What's Madam Puddifoot's?" Galahad asked curiously.
"A very obnoxious cafe in Hogsmeade." Tristan pulled his shrunken trunk out of the pockets of his robes and enlarged it, taking out a single book. "If a girl ever asks you to take her there, don't. I speak from experience when I say it's not worth the reward."
Valeria snorted.
"I don't care much for cafes or girls, I'd rather go to Zonko's, but I won't be allowed to for two more years." Galahad crunched his brows together. "Can you tell me more about Hogwarts?"
"Sorry, baby brother, I've got things to do." Tristan slowly edged a bit further into the corner of the bench, fingers drumming over the cover of his book. "I've had the whole 'tell me about Hogwarts' conversation with your sister three years ago, so now it's her time. Go ask her anything you want to know."
He opened the book. Blank pages stared back up at him. Tristan brushed his thumb along the middle, stifling a tiny wince of pain when something pricked his finger. A dwell of crimson drenched into the yellowed page and vanished. After a few seconds, lines of black ink wrenched into familiar handwriting.
'Now then, where was I?' He flipped a few pages and began reading.
"Someone's eager to start the term and we're not even at Hogwarts yet." His younger siblings paused their conversation. Valeria eyed him curiously. "Let me guess, it's DADA?"
"Something like that." A small smile played on Tristan's lips as he briefly glanced up: "Is it that obvious?"
"I haven't seen that book in our library, it doesn't look new either?"
"Borrowed from the Blacks," Tristan shrugged.
"Arcturus will be furious that you took it to Hogwarts." She giggled: "Even more so if you lost it."
"Trust me, I'll take very good care of it," he replied, eyes dipping back down.
Long arrays of runic sequences stretched over the pages. Lists of possible ingredients and precise instructions on their combination followed right below.
'Looks like I finally found the one about healing,' Tristan hummed thoughtfully.
Large checkmarks suggested that his parents had performed this one as well. Just like the one to amplify the connection with your magic, the one to heighten your reflexes, and the one to strengthen the human body.
'Thank Merlin, I chose Runes and Arithmancy, otherwise I probably wouldn't understand a single thing described here.' He strained his mind to follow the train of thought and comprehend as much as he could, despite the majority of the content being far above NEWT level in either subject.
The hours and landscape rushed by. The rain became heavier and heavier as the Express moved farther north. The sky was so dark and the windows so steamy that the lanterns were already lit by midday.
The occasional squabble broke out between his siblings along the way. Several of Valeria's friends, including the Potters and Blacks, looked in on them as the afternoon progressed. The loud noises clawed at his concentration. When every other conversation led back to the World Cup and the subsequent night of terror, Tristan felt his concentration waver rapidly.
'This is pointless.' He sighed in frustration and stored the book away safely. 'I'll have to wait until I'm at Hogwarts to study it further, time to take my mind off things.'
"I'm going to go look for the trolley," he announced to his siblings and their chatting friends, sliding the door to the compartment open.
He walked down the exceptionally busy hallway. Loud laughter rang over the heads of Hogwarts students, who hurried from one compartment to the other, some of them already dressed in their school uniform, others still in muggle attire.
"Tristan!" A familiar voice called out from behind him.
"Adelaide." He turned around, smiling when he caught auburn curls peeking out of a compartment he had just passed.
"I haven't heard from you since shortly before the World Cup." She walked up to him, leaning against the fogged window with a small smirk on her lips: "I've missed you terribly... especially after seeing you so often the weeks before."
"Sorry about that." A little heat raced through his veins as he watched her tongue dart out to wet pink lips: "I've been rather busy."
She took another step closer, a soft gleam dwelling up in her light green eyes. "Busy doing... what?"
Her sweet perfume, mixed with fresh, peachy shampoo filled his nostrils. With it came memories of their frequent rendezvous over the summer, her soft gasps and stifled moans stirred something in him.
"This and that..."
"I can't have taken that long to fill out the form on what subjects you'll keep studying." Small hands came up to straighten the collar of his robes while her smirk widened. "How did your OWLs go, by the way?"
"A few 'Os', some 'Es'." He shrugged. "Even a single 'A' found itself on my report card in History of Magic."
"Oh no, how terrible!" She laughed, high and soft. Then the wicked gleam returned. "So what are you doing out in the hallway by yourself?"
"My siblings can get very annoying." He watched her hands run down his chest, flattening out a wrinkle. "I was looking for a small distraction, perhaps... something sweet."
Adelaide leaned in even further, took his hand, and whispered: "I know exactly where to find something sweet for you."
"Lead the way then."
She ushered him through the crowd of students, her thumb circling over the back of his hand. They paused next to the boys' lavatory in the back of the Express.
"Did we get lost somehow? Because I didn't even know the trolley lady had her own compartment." Tristan feigned confusion, staring up at the sign. "And I'm pretty certain we've passed her already along the way..."
"Silly boy." Adelaide giggled.
After a quick glance over her shoulder, she gently shoved him inside. The moment the door was locked she crushed herself against him, the curve of her breasts pressed firmly into his chest.
Her lips brushed over his, her tongue invaded his mouth in a heated dance while her fingers curled in his hair. Tristan groaned and seized her by the hips tightly, heaving her up to press her against the wall of the stall. His fingers dug deep into the soft flesh of her rear. Heat swirled south and his breath quickened.
'This is definitely a good distraction.'
He broke the kiss for a ragged breath, and placed her back down, glancing into light green eyes that sparkled heavily with desire: "I can tell you've missed me a lot." He smirked.
"So- so did you." Her small hand cupped him through his trousers before she tugged open his belt: "But you'll have to be quick today. My friends will miss me otherwise..."
"I can do that." His fingers vanished underneath the skirt of her uniform.
"But not too quick, please," she breathed, parting her legs.
Tristan hooked a finger around the hem of her underwear and dragged the damp fabric to the side, running his fingertip up over the smooth heat between her thighs, slowly tracing two fingers through her wetness.
"Tristan-" Adelaide gasped and shuddered, her hand began coaxing him up and down antagonizing slowly: "Enough, I- I need to feel you inside me right now!"
"Turn around." Tristan steered her over to the sink and hitched up her skirt.
"I've waited so long for this." She bent forward and spread her legs. Pink wetness glistened where the blue silk of her underwear had been dragged aside.
Tristan stepped behind her and brushed his tip through the heat between her legs until she shivered with need and gasped. He lined himself up and slowly eased into her.
Adelaide moaned hoarsely: "Morgana, you feel so good."
Slick tightness and incredible heat engulfed him. He pushed deeper, as deep as he could go until she gasped.
"You should be quieter." Tristan tightened his grasp on her long hair, curling it around his fist as he began to move: "What if your friends walk by, looking for you, and they hear your moans?"
"I- I don't care!" she gasped, pushing her hips back into him. "Go harder! As hard as you like!"
Tristan pulled her head back by the long hair. His other hand applied gentle pressure on her lower back to keep her bent over the sink as he began driving into her deep and fast.
Adelaide's fingers curled around the white porcelain of the sink. The mirror in front of her face fogged with each of her quick breaths, gasps, and moans. His hand left her lower back and reached around to her front, slipping underneath her blouse to tease her breasts and cup them firmly.
Her moans and whimpers spurned him on further. The harder and faster he thrust into her, the louder she got, and the more desperately she clung to the sink to steady herself.
"So fucking good." Her breath hitched and her legs began shaking: "Don't stop now, I'm close. So close..."
His heart hammered frantically in his chest. A gentle burn spread through his thighs as he raised the pace even further. Adelaide's head dropped and she collapsed over the sink with a low cry, her fingers trembling around the porcelain.
Heat pooled in his belly as he felt himself follow her over the edge. Tristan drew out of her just before the wave of pleasure exploded, flooding his every vein with bright, hot ecstasy.
The thrill gradually subsided. Adelaide kept drawing ragged breaths for a few more seconds, still bent over the sink by her waist. She slowly straightened and leaned her head back onto his shoulder, cupping her breast with his hand.
"I really needed that." A bright flush and a small, contented smile played on her reflection's lips: "You made me wait far too long for this."
He teased her nipple with his thumb before withdrawing from her: "Was it worth the wait?"
"You always make it worth it." Adelaide slowly turned in his arms and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips. One of her hands vanished underneath her skirt. A small frown creased her brows: "But I wouldn't have minded if you finished inside. You know I'm on the potion."
'Better safe than sorry.'
He shrugged, tugging himself back in after a quick cleaning charm. "I thought it might be less of a mess for you, with you returning to your friends and sitting in the Great Hall later on."
"Yeah, much less of a mess," she giggled, flourishing her own wand at the trickle of release underneath the sink she had bent over: "It'll be something you can look forward to the next time, then. Trust me, you'll enjoy it a lot."
He fixed the color of his shirt: "I take it this is something you'd like to keep up then?"
"Well, I'd be an idiot not to," she laughed softly, braiding her hair with swift flicks of her wand: "That was exactly what I needed to start the term with. I'll definitely keep you around and I promise to make it worth your while."
"Always glad to be of help," Tristan chuckled: "Here, you should go first." He pulled his wand. "No need for a walk of shame this early in the term."
"Thanks. My friends can definitely tell what I've been up to though. I might be walking funnily for days." Adelaide allowed him to gently tap her on the head.
"Uhm, sorry, I guess?"
Her form faded from view in a ripple of air. "Don't be, I really don't mind too much."
"Make sure to tell him who sent you waddling then," Tristan grinned.
"And lessen my own chances of frequent repeats?" A pair of soft lips brushed against him in a quick peck before the door to the lavatory opened: "I don't think so, Peverell."
Tristan took a final deep breath and tugged his shirt back into his pants, then he slipped out after her. The looks he received from his peers were just as cautious and reserved as usual. A few sweets bought from the trolley ensured that his excuse for leaving at least held some credibility before he returned to his compartment.
"Catch," he told Galahad before throwing him a chocolate frog, repeating the same for his sister.
"You've been gone for some time." She hummed, eyeing him curiously while unwrapping the gift.
"Long line at the trolley," Tristan shrugged, letting the chocolate melt on his tongue with a small, content smile.
"Well, I'm glad you had some company while waiting." Valeria rolled her eyes and took a whiff: "Because you smell like a certain 'puff again, brother dear."
'Damnit, I knew I forgot something.'
Tristan tossed a Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Bean towards his brother, nodding appreciatively when the younger boy caught it in his open mouth: "I might have run into Adelaide on my way. One hug from her and I smell like peach or flowers for the rest of my day. That's usually how it is."
The journey continued with Galahad devouring the small stack of sweets Tristan had bought while asking both his older siblings questions about Hogwarts. Eventually, Valeria kicked them out of the compartment for a minute so she could change into her school uniform before allowing them to do the same. Galahad had his face pressed against the cold glass to get the first peek at the castle, occasionally shifting in his seat like a small bundle of nerves and excitement.
"You'll be fine, don't worry too much." Tristan watched as his brother nervously played with the hems of his black robes, the color of the highlights still undecided. "It's quite literally in our blood. Father would've been a Slytherin if he hadn't asked the Sorting Hat to place him with the friends he just made. Even Mother admitted that if it wasn't for her older brothers, she would've been sent to the Snake Pit as well."
"I'm not too worried about the sorting." Galahad swallowed, shifting away from the window when a loud rumble of thunder tore through the night: "It's just that I can think of a hundred things I'd rather be doing than crossing the Black Lake during this weather."
"Don't worry," Tristan grinned. "I'll make sure it's bearable."
The Hogwarts Express slowed down and finally stopped in the pitch-darkness of Hogsmeade station. Another rumble of thunder and bright lightning pieced through the sky as the train doors opened.
"See that giant of a man over there, Brother." Valeria held Galahad back by the collar, pointing to a large silhouette that held a lamp at the end of the platform. "That's Rubeus Hagrid, the gamekeeper. Go straight to him and hold on tight in the boat."
"This will help you a lot. Just hold still, I won't curse you." Tristan flicked his wand into his hand and touched its tip to his brother's forehead. A soft gleam of magic spread over Galahad's pale skin, coating him in a skin-tight wavering bubble that covered him from head to toe.
"Awesome!" Galahad held his hand out into the rain, eyes widening when it simply pearled off instead of dampening his robes. "See you in Slytherin!" He dashed off into the dark.
"Brother dearest?" Valeria stared up at him with large puppy eyes, shoving out her bottom lip. "Pretty please..."
"Fine, come here, little harpy." He repeated the same process for her and once more for himself before they stepped into the downpour.
The rain was coming down thick and fast. Aside from a strange tingle, he felt nothing, unlike the hundreds of peers around him, who all shivered and shrieked, sprinting towards the waiting carriages.
Tristan suddenly came to a slithering halt, face to face with a creature straight from a nightmare. Aspiration twirled from flared nostrils like steam from the Express. Large white eyes regarded him calmly.
'I guess I should've known...'
He vaguely recognized Valeria holding open the door for him, frowning when he remained standing where he was. "Tristan, are you-"
"Oh-" Her eyes widened in recognition. "I'm sorry, I forgot you could see them now. What- what do they look like?"
"Like a horse, only taller, skeleton-like, and winged," Tristan replied, fingers curling around his amulet. "Pretty much like the drawing in the crest of our family."
'But staring at it after some purebloods went missing during the very World Cup I attended is rather foolish.' He tore his eyes away and quickly entered the carriage.
The door shut with a snap, and a few moments later, with a great lurch, the long procession of carriages was rumbling and splashing its way up the track toward the Castle.
Hogwarts quickly came nearer, its many lighted windows blurred and shimmering behind the thick curtain of rain. Lightning flashed across the sky as their carriage came to a halt before the great oak front doors, which stood at the top of a flight of stone steps.
Students hurried over the courtyard by the dozen. Tristan and his sister passed through the cavernous, torch-lit entrance hall, with its magnificent marble staircase.
"That was close," Valeria chuckled after they barely managed to enter the Great Hall just before several water-filled balloons dropped from the ceiling and drenched anyone who had just gotten dried up via charms.
Golden plates and goblets gleamed by the light of hundreds and hundreds of candles, floating over the tables in midair. The four long House tables were already packed with chattering students, as was the staff table at the top of the Hall.
"Let's hope Galahad isn't taking too long, I'm starving." Tristan fought his way through the wet, shivering mass and took a seat at the far back of the Slytherin table.
Almost as soon as everyone was seated, the doors of the Great Hall opened and silence fell. Professor Flitwick, shorter than any of those who followed him, was leading a long line of first years up to the top of the Hall.
Most of them looked like they had swum across the lake, shivering with a combination of cold and nerves. All, apart from an ebony-haired boy towards the end, who found them and grinned from ear to ear, giving them a thumbs up.
A long tear near the brim of the Sorting Hat opened wide like a mouth, and the hat broke into his song.
"Two more years."Tristan absently watched his younger brother listen to the song. His thought drifted off, while he spun his wand between his fingers. "For two more years I can protect you all in here, but then I'll be gone and you two will be by yourself before Aurelia joins."
"True." A small line of worry creased his sister's brows. "But we've been taught how to defend ourselves, just as you have."
"Still, none of you ever had to make use of it." He shook his head: "None of you ever had to stand up to three older students, who surround you in a dark corridor. None of you were ever forced to strike back or risk actual injury."
"I'm not like you or Father." Valeria bit her bottom lip: "I'd much rather charm pretty things than duel someone."
"I know, but neither of us can keep an eye on Galahad all the time this year." Tristan slowly tugged his wand away, glimpsing up the table at his House mates: "We'll soon see if he has what it takes to look after himself."
The Great Hall rang with applause as the Sorting Hat finished. The first boy was called upon and walked forward, visibly trembling from head to foot before he was swiftly placed in Ravenclaw.
Tristan waited patiently until it was his brother's turn. Finally, Professor Flitwick squeaked:
"Peverell, Galahad!"
Murmurs and whispers rose from all four tables. Just as it had been for Valeria a few years ago, pretty much everyone's eyes shifted from their position at the end of the Slytherin table back to Galahad at the top of the Great Hall. His brother took a deep breath and determinedly stepped forward, sitting down on the stool and placing the ragged hat on his head.
The silence stretched forever, longer than it had for anyone of Galahad's predecessors. Certainly longer than Tristan remembered it for himself and his sister.
Finally, the rip at the brim opened wide -
"GRYFFINDOR!" the hat shouted.
"What?!" Valeria's shout echoed through the Great Hall in the hush that followed.
All eyes stared at the boy.
Eventually, polite clapping came from Headmistress McGonagall and a few other professors at the staff table before it was joined in by the Potter and Black children at the lions' table.
'Gryffindor then.' Tristan swallowed heavily, knuckles flexing underneath the table: 'How the bloody hell am I supposed to protect him in another House?'
Galahad's eyes found him and he shrugged apologetically. He placed the Hat back down on the chair and hurried over to the table dressed in gold and red, squeezing in between Magnolia and Charlus who swiftly made space for him.
"My brother is a bloody 'dork," Valeria rumbled incoherently next to him when the food appeared on their golden plates: "Morgana's saggy tits, I still can't fucking believe it..."
"Quiet!" Tristan hissed, meeting the gleeful stares and smug sneers he received from his Housemates head-on. "Don't you see how they all fucking look at him? Like he's some snack, dangling on a hook for the first one that comes by to be ripped off. Houses don't fucking matter right now. He's our blood and we will support him no matter what colors he wears!"
"I suppose it could be worse," Valeria whispered in between small sips from her pumpkin juice: "At least he has some friends in Gryffindor. He could've ended up a 'puff with no friends at all."
Tristan said nothing and saturated his hunger, still feeling the eyes of the majority of his House on him.
With the feast almost finished, Headmistress McGonagall stood up. Under her intimidating stare, the Great Hall immediately fell silent once more.
"There are a few announcements to be made before some of us will inevitably get too distracted by the impending prospect of sleep." Her gaze fell on Ronald Weasley from Gryffindor, who leaned back on the bench, rubbing his tummy with his eyes closed. "Just as in the years before, I will remind members from all Houses that the Forbidden Forest is so named for a reason. Under no circumstances are you allowed to enter it. This holds especially true for the incoming term!"
Murmurs rose from the benches.
'What's so special about this year.' Tristan frowned: 'And why not ward it to prevent the entry if it's so dangerous now?'
"Silence!" McGonagall's voice cut through the whispers like a knife: "Secondly, very much to my personal regret, I must inform you that there will be no Inter-House Quidditch Season this year!"
The murmurs broke out again, this time blossoming into full mutiny. Tristan's gaze roamed over the members of the Quidditch team of each House, many of them loudly voicing their disagreement.
"Alright, something is definitely going on now." Valeria snorted in amusement: "Everyone knows McGonagall loves Quidditch."
"True," Tristan hummed, his curiosity piquing.
"The reason for that-" The headmistress's amplified voice boomed through the Great Hall, "-is that after over almost two centuries, the Triwizard Tournament will be held again, here at Hogwarts!"
All hell broke loose in the Great Hall. People jumped from their seats, staring up at the staff table wide-eyed.
"Silence!" McGonagall fired her wand like a cannon: "I'm glad to see the surprise evident on your faces. The staff of Beauxbaton, Durmstrang, Hogwarts, and the Ministry have been working countless hours while being sworn to utmost secrecy to ensure a smooth reintroduction of the Tournament is possible."
'Sworn?' Tristan frowned, watching the disbelieving expression on the faces of even the most well-connected students, those with family on the Wizengamot. 'An oath perhaps, soul magic, with no way to circumvent it.'
McGonagall's sharp gaze roamed over their heads: "The Tournament will be held at Hogwarts this year, providing those who enter with the chance to earn eternal glory as school champion."
'A chance for glory.' A sharp thrill raced through Tristan's veins, heightening his senses. 'No more drowning shadows that hold me in place. A chance to spread my wings...'
"In view of the... unfortunate death toll this prestigious event held during its more recent inaugurations, the heads of each participating school have agreed to impose an age restriction on their respective contenders this year," McGonagall continued swiftly, her voice rising in volume with each word that left her thin lips. "As for Hogwarts, only students who have completed their OWLS, thereby those in their sixth or seventh year, will be allowed to put forward their names for consideration."
"The matter is final!" McGonagall declared. "An impartial judge will choose the champions out of the pool of eligible contenders on October 31. The delegations from Beauxbaton and Durmstrang will be arriving a month earlier and remain with us for the greater part of this year. I am most certain-" she flared her nostrils, "-that you will all extend every courtesy to our foreign guests while they are with us and not embarrass the oldest educational institute in Britain. That is all for now, you may retreat to your common rooms!"
"What do you think?" Valeria asked excitedly while the benches were pushed back and everyone headed for the exit. "Surely you'll enter, won't you? You're old enough after all!"
'Eternal glory...'
"I don't know yet." Tristan watched his younger brother and the other Gryffindor first years being led up the giant staircase by some prefects. "I can deny there's a certain ring to it."
"McGonagall didn't lie about there being a death toll the last time it was held, though," Valeria frowned as they followed a mass of silver and green toward the dungeons. "Mother wouldn't like it if you entered."
'Eternal glory...'
"I don't care." Tristan stifled a flare of annoyance. "They can't stop me from participating and once my name is entered, whatever contract has been formed will probably force me to continue regardless."
'School champion... This is something even Father has never accomplished.' A hot yearning coiled itself tightly in his chest: 'Finally, there's something that would distinguish me. I knew I was meant to be more than just the son of the Peverells. And this is the chance to prove it to everyone.'
A prefect spoke the password and allowed them to enter the Slytherin common room through the concealed entrance.
Tristan was about to bid his sister good night and head to his dormitory when his path was blocked by two burly figures.
"Warrington and Montague..." His wand slid into his palm within seconds. He shot Valeria a quick nod, waiting until she had slipped past them: "I suggest you move out of my way. Quickly, before I lose the little patience I have..."
"Not so fast now, Peverell."
Tristan whirled around.
Abraxas Malfoy stepped into the middle of the common room. A hushed silence fell over the snake pit. Most of the younger years were quickly shoved toward their dormitories. The upper years formed a tight ring around Tristan along the walls of the dungeon.
Tristan quietly spun on the spot and ensured that Valeria had made it to her room in time.
'Let's see what they want this time.'
"Malfoy." He inclined his head and traced his wand through the air, silver sparks showering the harsh stone tiles at his feet: "Is this finally the surprise party I've been waiting for for years?"
"I'm afraid not, although it will surprise you..."
Malfoy stepped forward, his trademark sneer plastered on his face and the white blonde hair slicked back elegantly. He was flanked by the Lestrange twins, with Casper Crouch right behind them.
"Allow me to get straight to the point, Peverell. Perhaps, over the last few minutes or more precisely, ever since McGonagall's announcement, you have toyed with the idea of entering the Triwizard Tournament..."
"The thought never even crossed my mind," Tristan laughed coldly: "You know I hate the spotlight, it made me oh-so uncomfortable at the World Cup, surely you've seen that."
Anger spasmed over the aristocratic faces of the Lestrange twins. Brutus growled something under his breath, fingers edging to his wand
"No." Malfoy stopped him and spread his arms, gesturing around. "A unanimous decision has already been agreed upon. Hogwarts, but especially House Slytherin, will not be represented by a Peverell during this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity."
"If you've held a vote during dinner, I must have been skipped by accident." Tristan circled his wand through his fingers: "Besides, since I am eligible to enter, the only way to stop me is by being the better candidate... So who is going to be?" He laughed mockingly: "You perhaps, Malfoy? Are you finally going to get your hands and shiny rings dirty? Or perhaps you, Crouch?" he gestured at Caspar: "You must've been so disappointed that Daddy didn't tell you about this event, weren't you? Which one of you will it be? Who wants a piece of eternal glory?"
"Whoever is best suited for it," Malfoy replied smugly. "And with you not even competing, it can only be one of us." He gestured at the cluster of surely seventh years with his short black wand: "However, to make sure that we reach a mutual understanding, let me phrase things differently for you and perhaps show you what exactly we mean..."
He took another step forward. The hand not holding his wand vanished underneath his robes and retrieved a small, fluffy toy lion, which he tossed to Tristan's feet.
Tristan twisted his wrist and levitated it up to study it. Its fur had been burned and blackened. Two of the four limbs, as well as its tail and an ear, were missing completely.
"If you decide to enter... if you but dare soil the name of our House's noble founder by throwing in your name..." Abraxas' triumphant sneer widened, "-then it won't be you who pays the consequences for it. It will be your brother, the little lion, who suffers."