BORN TO DIE    ╱    DRACO MALFOY
꒷꒦ · ˚.‧ . written by ella . . . © -lostgardens
065 ━━━━ ❛ fate drawn from a flame ❜

In the Great Hall—the tables now returned to the room with the Goblet of Fire in the front—the students of Hogwarts chatted, some standing and some sitting. Olivia was sitting at the Slytherin table with her friends, and they were talking about how the Quidditch season had been canceled due to the tournament, meaning Lucas couldn't try out and he'd have to wait for the following year.

"Yeah, it's a bummer, but one more year won't hurt, I suppose," Lucas admitted, shortly shrugging his shoulders with his elbows and forearms resting on the table.

Theodore clasped a hand on the boy's shoulder, giving him an encouraging grin. "Well, you're sure to make it when the time comes." He removed his hand from Lucas, who just gave him a thankful smile. Then the younger boy focused his eyes on his sister, who was sitting across from him.

Olivia had just pulled out her book when she met Lucas's eye. She gave him a small smile and sweetly said, "Yeah, Luke. I'm certain you'll make it on to the team." She inhaled deeply, disgust twisting on her face as she glanced around the room, specifically at the flaming goblet. "It's such a shame that the season was canceled for something so bloody stupid as this," she added, focusing back on her brother.

"You think this is stupid?" Draco asked from beside her.

Before she could answer, Dumbledore told them, "Sit down. Please." And the ones standing did as they were told, eagerly waiting for the names to be drawn. The only reason Olivia was there was because her friends had practically begged her. Plus, she was curious. Cedric had put his name in, Krum did as well, and so did some of her housemates, so she wanted to see who got the unluck of the draw. "Now, the moment you've all been waiting for," the older professor continued, his voice a little louder so everyone could hear him. He stood next to the Goblet of Fire; the age line was no longer in place. "The champion selection." The man turned swiftly, lifting his arm towards the top of the room and directing his magic to each one of the hanging fire torches to put them out so that the only light was coming from the glowing blue flame of the goblet. Then he walked over to the old-looking cup, placing his hands on its side before moving halfway around it. Then the flames turned a scarlet red. Olivia just continued to read her book, still keeping her ears open for the names that were soon going to be called.

When a piece of parchment flew out, Dumbledore was quick to catch it in his aging hand. Most everyone watched intently, while the words on the pages of Olivia's book held her gaze. Dumbledore looked down at the charred parchment and then focused on the students studying him, waiting on the edge of their seats. "The Durmstrang champion is Viktor Krum," the Headmaster announced. The boys behind the man cheered loudly, in a more grunting caveman tone than Olivia felt was necessary, as they clapped, and some even banged on the chosen boy's chest with their fists.

Krum stood from his seat with a proud grin while his classmates continued cheering. Olivia glanced beside her at the sound of Draco applauding for the boy, and she rolled her eyes. She then found Lucas and the other boys doing the same while Pansy boredly clapped. Students around them applauded as well, and she felt like the black sheep for a moment, until she remembered that she did not care.

The Durmstrang champion approached Dumbledore and shook his hand firmly, and then the older man gestured for him to move off to the side of the room so that they could move on. Once more, the flames turned from a bright blue to a burning red, spitting out another slip of parchment. Dumbledore caught it like before. "The champion for Beauxbatons," he began, flipping over the parchment to find the name, "is Fleur Delacour."

The blue-wearing girls cheered and clapped for their friend, giving her soft and proud smiles that made Olivia, who was barely registering more than a few words of her book due to the noise, queasy as everyone else joined in on the celebration once again. The above-average-height and slim blonde, with her hair pulled back into a slick and shiny ponytail and a bright smile on her face, stood from her seat and made her way to the long-bearded man. He shook her hand and raised a hand to the left of the room, as he had with Krum. Olivia now saw that they were going through a door close to the High Table, probably so they could get a proper congratulations for their selections and explanation of what was to come later now that they were chosen.

For the third and final time, the flames turned red, and a piece of parchment was guided into Dumbledore's hand. The man studied it and then said, "The Hogwarts champion, Cedric Diggory!"

Everyone cheered loudly, oddly enough, except for Draco this time, and Olivia felt her heart skip a beat at the sound of the name, but not because of any fondness Pansy believed she had for the boy. He wasn't the one she was fond of.

No. She wasn't fond of anyone.

Olivia glanced up to find the brunette Hufflepuff, ignoring the thoughts running through her mind—the same ones that had clouded her brain over the three months of summer—and she watched him stand from his table and make his way to Dumbledore with a bright grin curled at his lips. The gray-haired man shook his hand and then patted him on the shoulder as Cedric walked off to where the other two had gone, but not before commencing with his schoolmates.

"Excellence!" Dumbledore gleamed loudly, opening his arms welcomingly as if he were about to hug someone. "We now have our three champions!" He paused for a moment, for dramatic effect, Olivia supposed. "But in the end, only one will go down in history. Only one will hoist this chalice of champions," he continued, bringing his arms in to rest just in front of his chest. "This vessel of victory," he turned swiftly, pointing a finger at what Crouch Sr. had brought in, "the Triwizard Cup!"

The cover over the cup removed itself in haste, revealing a glowing chalice embellished with silver accents and two handles on either side that were large and detailed. The ones around Olivia applauded, whistled, and cheered loudly at the announcement of the prize, probably already deciding in their heads who they wanted to see go home with it. Olivia looked at Snape, who stood beside it, looking rather curiously at the goblet behind Dumbledore.

Olivia sighed, focusing back on her book, not paying any mind to the fact that, all of a sudden, two more names were spit from the flames, right into Dumbledore's hands. Everyone was finally silent, and she could now read some more of her book. She'd been on the same page since she bloody got into the Great Hall, and it was driving her mad.

"Harry Potter..." Dumbledore muttered, causing Olivia to stiffen in her seat. Slowly, she looked up, watching Dumbledore's eyes shift from one piece of parchment in his left hand to the second in his right hand. "And... Olivia Mallard."

Her heart sank into her stomach, and her eyes went slightly wider.

Whispers were heard around the hall, confused and curious about the two additional names. The Headmaster looked up, his eyes darting around the room, seeming as if he were trying to find the two others. Olivia hated that she did it since it was cowardly, but she ducked her head down just the slightest, hoping she was losing her mind like her ancestors and was hearing things. Because there was no bloody way in Merlin's name that her name had just been called. No. Bloody. Way.

"Harry Potter. Olivia Mallard," Dumbledore said a little louder this time. The whispers and perplexed mutters of their classmates whirled around the room; everyone else, otherwise, was completely silent in shock and disbelief.

Olivia could feel her friends' eyes on her, but she didn't dare meet them. Either she was hearing things or she was having a nightmare. Those two were the only possible explanations for the matter. She hadn't put her name in the Goblet of Fire. How could she have? She wasn't seventeen, and she wasn't looking for another near-death experience. She'd be mental to do that. Anyone would be mental to do that!

"Harry Potter and Olivia Mallard!" Dumbledore shouted, his voice booming enough to echo against the walls and make everyone go quiet.

Olivia flinched at his voice, and she took in a deep breath through her nose before snapping her book shut. Sliding it across the table to Lucas, she asked, "Can you keep this safe for me? I'm not done with it yet." She watched him nod, and she muttered, "Thank you." Then she stood from her seat as Potter did the same on the other side of the hall. She could sense everyone staring at her, but she didn't meet their gazes; she just raised her chin, holding her head high, as she began walking towards the clearly confused and upset Headmaster. Potter joined her only a second later, coming to walk by her side, and the two sent each other sideways glances before they focused back on the man, who hadn't taken his studying eyes off of them.

When they stopped in front of Dumbledore, they weren't greeted with congratulating handshakes or pats on the back. They were simply handed the parchments with their names on them, and then they slowly made their way towards the front of the Great Hall, where the High Table was located, along with the professors, Crouch, and the heads' of the visiting schools. With each student they passed by, they got a judging whisper or look from them. Olivia didn't let the flat and almost conniving expression on her face falter, however, despite the pit in her stomach and the ramming of her heart against her chest. She just kept forward with her chin held high.

"They're cheats!" A boy called out.

"Neither of them are even seventeen yet!" added another.

Olivia and Potter stopped by Snape, who was giving them blank looks. Olivia tried to plead with her eyes to let him know that she hadn't been the one to place her name forward. But the man just glanced away from her, and Potter tugged her elbow gently as they continued forward. As they passed McGonagall, she gave them pats on the shoulders with a sorrowful look. Then they went by more professors and Karkaroff before standing in front of Moody, who studied them with his usual distasteful expression while his hands rested on top of his walking stick. And then through the door they went, following the already chilling-down trail of the three champions before them.

Now out of sight of their schoolmates, the professors, and all others that lingered in the Great Hall, Potter and Olivia walked in silence, not knowing or having anything to say to one another. Both of their minds were still shaken by the fact that they had been chosen. The yellow glow of candlelight surrounded them, a major contrast to the soft blue tint the hall had. And eventually they came to a staircase, which they descended, causing the gates towards the end to open in welcome to them.

There was a whirling and spinning sound coming from one of the objects in the room. But that was quickly replaced by arguing. Olivia and Potter continued down the stairs, finding Fleur, Cedric, and Krum standing in wait.

Madame Maxime started, "It's wrong, I tell you!"

"You French tart," Moody spat. "Everything is a conspiracy theory with you!"

Olivia was focused on Cedric, who was giving her a confused look as to why she was there. He wasn't the only one feeling that way. The loud voices behind them were mixed together; there were no clear words to be heard as everyone talked over one another, until Dumbledore.

"Quiet! I can't think!" the old man told them, but it did nothing.

Olivia and Potter turned around quickly, seeing a swarm of people coming their way.

"Everything's a conspiracy!" the ex-Auror repeated.

"I protest, I protest!" Madame Maxime countered.

When Dumbledore caught sight of the two underage teenagers, his eyes slightly widened, then narrowed. "Harry, Harry." His tone was almost a growl as he ran over to the boy, placing his hands on his shoulders. "Did you put your name in the Goblet of Fire?" He backed him up swiftly so that Potter's back was against one of the many display tables in the room.

Olivia just stood off to the side, standing like a statue.

"No, sir," Potter shakily replied.

"Did you ask one of the older students to do it for you?" Dumbledore then questioned, slightly shaking the boy by the shoulders.

"No, sir!" The glasses-wearing boy repeated it more urgently.

Dumbledore seemed to ponder the answer for a moment as the others hovered behind him, seeming to want a piece of Potter for themselves. "You're absolutely sure?" He held up an accusing finger, waving it at Potter.

"Yes. Yes, sir," the Golden Boy stammered.

Then Dumbledore hastily turned to Olivia, his focus narrowing on her as her eyes grew slightly bigger. He ran over to her, pushing her back by the shoulders against one of the tables like he'd done with Potter. "And what about you, Miss Mallard?" He paused but gave her no time to answer. "Did you put your name in the Goblet of Fire or have an older student do it for you?" His eyes glanced behind her to see where the three other champions stood, then he focused back on her. "You seem rather interested in Mr. Diggory as of late," he accused.

That was what Olivia really took offense to. She faintly heard Cedric say, "Now, wait." But she spoke before he could continue. "No, sir," she gritted through her teeth, her voice all the more angrier than Potter's was as her eyes narrowed into thin slits. "I wouldn't put my name in the stupid Goblet of Fire to enter a stupid tournament to win a stupid cup!" She let out a huff, glancing at Snape behind her, who was giving her what seemed to be a warning look to control her emotions. There was a slight flicker in the fire that surrounded them as she met Dumbledore's gaze once more. "The tournament is a death wish waiting to happen, and I've had enough of those over the years," she concluded, sending a nasty glance in Potter's direction since it was mostly his antics that almost got her killed so many times. Had it been partly her fault for following him into those situations? Yes, but that wasn't the point.

Dumbledore seemed to believe her, so he backed off, allowing her to stand up straight and brush off her clothes. But their feat wasn't over yet because Madame Maxime came down the rest of the stairs, slapping a lantern hanging from the ceiling out of her way. "But of course, they're both lying," she argued.

"The hell they are!" Moody retorted, everyone creeping closer towards Olivia and Potter. The girl sent Snape another look from where he stood beside McGonagall and the three older champions. He just had a blank expression again, as always. "The Goblet of Fire is an exceptionally powerful magical object. Only an exceptionally powerful Confundus Charm could've hoodwinked it. Magic way beyond the talents of a fourth year," he explained, and Potter and Olivia glanced at one another.

"You seemed to have given this a fair bit of thought, Mad-Eye," Karkaroff countered accusingly, coming face-to-face with the Dark Arts professor.

"It was once my job to think as dark wizards do, Karkaroff," said Moody, his voice low and rough. "Perhaps you remember." Olivia's brows raised at this, but she remained silent.

Dumbledore cut between the two men as he walked over to Crouch, along with the others. "This doesn't help, Alastor." Then he focused on the ministry man, who had his back to him while he seemed to be lost in thought. "Leave this to you, Barty."

And in that moment, Olivia knew they were doomed.

Crouch was quiet for a moment, not facing anyone as they stared at him. "The rules are absolute," he began, his voice echoing on the walls. "The Goblet of Fire constitutes a binding magical contract." He turned around, his gaze finding Dumbledore. "Mr. Potter and Miss Mallard have no choice. They are, as of tonight..."—he focused on the two he spoke of, who were standing off to the side still, Potter fiddling with the parchment in his hand and Olivia messing with the hem of her skirt, both with their eyes on the speaking man—"Triwizard champions."

Slowly, the two watched as everyone faced them. Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Snape all looked worried, the two former more than the latter. Moody's expression was blank as he stood with his arms crossed. Madame Maxime also had a hint of worry in her gaze, but otherwise, her face was flat. Karkaroff had his eyes narrowed, not looking nearly as intimidating as he thought he did.

Olivia just rolled her eyes and cursed under her breath in French, "Putain d'enfer," knowing that at least two people in the room would understand her grief.

"Oh?" Madame Maxime raised her brows, catching Olivia's attention. "Tu parles français?" she asked, taking a small step closer with a type of gleam in her eye. Olivia didn't like it.

"Oui," the girl replied boredly.

Beautxbatons' Head sent a glance over at her champion, then her eyes were back to Olivia along with Fleur's. "Je t'aime un peu mieux maintenant."

Olivia nodded her head with a barely there smirk. "Merci, Madame."

She was screwed.

≀⋆⁺₊⋆ ꗃ 𖦹⨳✺

Olivia was pacing back and forth in her room since she had finally released the looming eyes and expectation of her participation in the Triwizard Tournament, though that pressure was still holding itself tightly over her head. She was a champion, after all.

When she'd entered the common room, it was made clear to her that everyone, excluding her group, hated her. But that wasn't what mattered at the moment, or at all, really. What mattered was the fact that she was going to be competing in a three-part tournament, and she had no idea how she was supposed to win. She was going to make a fool of herself.

Her friends sat on hers and Pansy's beds, watching her as she held her hands tightly in her hair, pulling at the roots while her feet carried her from one side of the room to the other, passing the door with each pace. They were speaking; she knew that much, but her mind was running so wild that the words weren't even registering.

"She's gone into full panic mode," Theodore stated. "She's officially lost it."

Pansy clicked her tongue, swatting Theodore's arm. "Oh, hush, Theo." Then she looked at the blonde boy who sat on Olivia's bed. "Alright, Draco, you're up."

Slowly, Draco stood up from the bed, approaching the pacing girl. He had to follow her from her desk to the bathroom and then back again. She didn't pay him any mind, muttering curses and confusion under her breath, until he reached out for her, trying to grab onto her shoulder. She didn't look at him, but she lifted her hands in dismissive protest. "Don't touch me."

Draco dropped his hand to his side and took a step back. "Okay," he muttered.

"I can't do this. How am I supposed to win this bloody tournament?" Olivia paced a few more times, coming to a stop for a moment. Her friends thought she was done, but then she picked up where she left off and ran her hands through her hair, continuing to pull at the roots. "I can't do this!" she repeated, almost sounding like she was going to sob. She shook her head a few times, her mind still running wild with panic. "Ik ga verliezen; ik ga niet winnen," she said in Dutch. I'm going to lose; I'm not going to win. Then she moved onto Italian, not even realizing it. "È incredibile. Non ho ancora diciassette anni. Il mio nome non avrebbe dovuto essere lì dentro." This is unbelievable. I'm not seventeen yet. My name shouldn't have been in there. "Merlín, por favor, ayúdame," she continued in Spanish. Merlin, please help me. Her mind was running wild. "This can't be happening. Why is this even a thing? Who put my name in that blasted goblet?" She breathed heavily, feeling like her heart was going to rip itself from her chest. "Je vais perdre la tête putain. Quand je découvrirai qui a fait ça, je vais les tuer!" Her voice was loud as she spoke in French. I'm going to fucking lose my mind. When I find out who did this, I'm going to kill them!

"Bugger," Lucas sighed. "She's mixing up her languages; this is really bad."

"Wait, so you actually didn't put your name in the goblet?" asked Theodore, genuinely sounding confused.

It was then that Olivia snapped out of her trance, swiftly turning to the boy, who sat beside Pansy with an evil look in her eye. She was seething, her face twisted in a scowl. "No!" she shouted, taking a step closer to him, and she was sure she had stomped her foot, her boot beating loudly against the floor. "I didn't put my name in the BLASTED GOBLET!" She leaned down, coming to the same eye level as him.

The boy's eyes were wide. "Oh, sorry," he mumbled sheepishly.

Olivia stood up straight, lingering for a moment with her eyes still on the boy, who liked to talk out of his arse. And then she moved away from the boy and walked over to the door, causing the others to think she was about to leave. Then she turned, hitting her back against the wood, and slid down it, criss-crossing her legs as she sat on the cold floor.

Draco took a few steps towards her again and then sat down in front of her. His eyes were boring into her eyes—gray on green. She wanted to be left alone. "Are you all right?" he asked, raising his brows as he ducked his head to catch her gaze that had fallen off of him.

She just made a small noise that didn't make her answer clear. Then she put her head in her hands, tangling her fingers in her hair as she took deep breaths. In and out. Inhale and exhale. It wasn't working, though, to calm her down. She was too stressed; her mind was running too wild. Every thought she had was too much.

"Olivia, do you want Mr. Snake?" Lucas knowingly inquired.

Olivia looked up, dropping her hands to her sides as she met her brother's gaze. He was holding up her beloved bear with a small, soft smile on his face. He tilted it side to side a few times, like he was baiting her to take it. She just stared at the brown bear for a long minute before glancing around at all the ones staring at her with worried expressions twisted on their faces, with just a hint of curiosity if she was going to acknowledge the bear she slept with every night in front of them.

Letting out a frustrated huff, she shortly nodded.

Lucas nodded towards Draco, who had taken a glance back at him, then threw him the bear a second later. It landed in the blonde's hands, and he studied it for a moment. Facing Olivia, Draco handed Mr. Snake to her, offering her a small smile as she gently took it.

Then she hugged it tightly, feeling its stuffed form in her arms. Her chin rested on top of its soft and fluffy head, bringing her comfort. She felt like a child, and she was sure she looked like one too. "If any of you tell anyone about this, I will hex you," Olivia threatened, glancing up through her lashes.

"We know," everyone said in unison.

≀⋆⁺₊⋆ ꗃ 𖦹⨳✺

━━━━ ella's speaking !
welp... lol

make sure to comment and vote 🫶🏻

kisses.

━━━━━━━━━━ born to die,
© -LOSTGARDENS, mar 2024

word count: 4088. written: 3.3.24. published: 3.24.24.