▬▬▬▬▬ CHAPTER EIGHT ▬▬▬▬▬

"I AM SO DISAPPOINTED IN you."

"Essie..." Cedric sighed.

But Esmerelda continued to gape at him. "You actually believe that Harry put his name in the goblet?"

"Well yeah," he said simply, shrugging. "I mean, he's Harry Potter."

"Yeah, exactly, he's Harry Potter not some sort of evil mastermind," she snorted. "The dude's fourteen."

"Yeah well you're fifteen and you're a magic savant," he replied.

She was actually kind of flattered, which made her miss the point entirely. "A magic savant? You think I'm that good? Aww, Ced, thanks!" She beamed.

"You're missing the point," he deadpanned. "What I'm saying, is that if you're magically strong enough to hoodwink the goblet, then so could Harry!"

She made a greatly uncertain face. "Er... I dunno about that. Harry's cool and all, but I once saw him try to use the permanent sticking charm on his bangs so it would cover up his scar only to end up getting his wand stuck to his hair." Had Hermione not instructed him to go to Madam Pomfrey for help, he would've actually listened to Ron and shaven all his hair off.

He looked at her incredulously.

She sighed. "Look, my point is that Harry is just like any other student here in Hogwarts. He's a regular kid, but the media glorifies him because of what happened when he was a baby—what happened on the day his parents were murdered. He has a special background, yes, but after that, Harry was raised with muggle relatives (that he doesn't particularly like). He's a normal boy and he'd like to stay that way. There's no way he could've planned all this. He doesn't even like the attention he always gets."

The doubt in his expression faded away slightly. "You really don't think it could've been him...?"

"Absolutely not." She answered firmly. "You didn't see his face when his name was called out, but I did. He looked like he wanted to throw up the second he realized what was going on. Harry doesn't want any of this at all."

"Back... back at the room after all the Champions were announced... Professor Moody mentioned something about someone wanting to have Harry killed." He whispered.

She nodded slowly. "That's a possibility. Voldemort or no Voldemort, Harry still has many enemies."

Cedric looked slightly ashamed of himself and quietly went back to eating his oatmeal. Over his shoulder, she spotted Hermione gesturing for her to come over. In her other hand was a stack of toast that she was carrying around in a napkin.

"Uh, I'll talk to you later," she mumbled to Cedric before rising to her feet. She approached Hermione with a confused expression on her face. "Hey, morning! Uh, what's with the toast?"

"Harry's still in his dorms, but I'm planning on eating out with him," she explained, gesturing to the toast in her hands. "I doubt he'd want to eat here with everyone thinking that he..."

"Right," she nodded in understanding. "But what about Ron?" He had long since finished breakfast and had already left the Great Hall to go who knows where.

Hermione grimaced, and Esmerelda put two-to-two together. Her jaw dropped. "You're kidding me."

Hermione just nodded.

"He actually thinks Harry put his name in the cup?!" She whisper-hissed under her breath.

Hermione sighed heavily and nodded in reply. "I'm afraid so... He can get a bit jealous about the attention Harry gets. Come on, Harry should be getting up by now. Let's go before we're too late."

Esmerelda was taken to the portrait of the Fat Lady. Not even a second after their arrival, the portrait door swung open and out came just the boy they were looking for.

"Hey, Harry," Esmerelda waved.

"Hello," Hermione greeted, holding up the stack of toast. "I brought you this... Want to go for a walk?"

"Good idea," Harry said gratefully.

They went downstairs, crossed the entrance hall quickly without looking in at the Great Hall, and were soon striding across the lawn toward the lake, where the Durmstrang ship was moored, reflected blackly in the water. It was a chilly morning, and they kept moving, munching their toast, as Harry told the girls exactly what had happened after he had left the Gryffindor table the night before.

"You don't have to explain yourself to us, Harry," Esmerelda assured him gently. "We know you're telling the truth."

"You believe me?" He asked them hopefully.

"Well, of course I knew you hadn't entered yourself," Hermione confirmed. "The look on your face when Dumbledore read out your name! But the question is, who did put it in? Because Moody's right, Harry... I don't think any student could have done it... they'd never be able
to fool the Goblet, or get over Dumbledore's—"

"—Have you seen Ron?" Harry interrupted.

Hermione and Esmerelda shared a grimace.

"He was at breakfast this morning," Esmerelda answered carefully. "He, um, had a startling amount of breakfast sandwiches. He left right after that though..."

"Does he still think I entered myself?"

"Well... no, I don't think so... not really," Hermione said awkwardly.

"What's that supposed to mean, 'not really'?" He demanded.

"Oh Harry, isn't it obvious?" She said despairingly. "He's jealous!"

"Jealous?" Harry said incredulously. "Jealous of what? He wants to make a prat of himself in front of the whole school, does he?"

"Look," Hermione said patiently, "It's always you who gets all the attention, you know it is. I know it's not your fault," she added quickly, seeing Harry open his mouth furiously. "I know you don't ask for it... but—well—you know, Ron's got all those brothers to compete against at home, and you're his best friend, and you're really famous—he's always shunted to one side whenever people see you, and he puts up with it, and he never mentions it, but I suppose this is just one time too many..."

Unfortunately, it didn't make Harry feel any better or understanding.

"Great," he said bitterly. "Really great. Tell him from me I'll swap any time he wants. Tell him from me he's welcome to it... People gawping at my forehead everywhere I go..."

"I'm not telling him anything," Hermione said shortly. "Tell him yourself. It's the only way to sort this out."

"I'm not running around after him trying to make him grow up!" Harry said, so loudly that several owls in a nearby tree took flight in alarm. "Maybe he'll believe I'm not enjoying myself once I've got my neck broken or—"

"—Don't jinx yourself, Harry," Esmerelda frowned. "Trust me, Fate has a funny way with irony."

But all he did was huff angrily.

"Harry, I've been thinking," Hermione began. "You know what we've got to do, don't you? Straight away, the moment we get back to the castle?"

"Yeah, give Ron a good kick up the—"

"—Write to Sirius." She interrupted firmly. "You've got to tell him what's happened. He asked you to keep him posted on everything that's going on at Hogwarts... It's almost as if he expected something like this to happen. I brought some parchment and a quill out with me—"

"Come off it," Harry said, looking around to check that they couldn't be overheard, but the grounds were quite deserted. "He came back to the country just because my scar twinged. He'll probably come bursting right into the castle if I tell him someone's entered me in the Triwizard Tournament—"

"—I already sent my letter to Uncle Sirius last night," Esmerelda informed him. "But I know he'd like to hear from you too, since you're the one forced into the situation. Come on, Harry, please? He's your godfather, he'll get all sad and mopey if his own godson didn't think to tell him about this."

Hermione nodded approvingly at the guilting. "Exactly. Besides, he's going to find out regardless if he was told or not by either of you."

"How?"

"Harry, this isn't going to be kept quiet," she said very seriously. "This tournament's famous, and you're famous. I'll be really surprised if there isn't anything in the Daily Prophet about you competing... You're already in half the books about You-Know-Who, you know... and Sirius would rather hear it from you, I know he would."

"Okay, okay, I'll write to him," he finally said, throwing his last piece of toast into the lake. The three of them stood and watched it floating there for a moment, before a large tentacle rose out of the water and scooped it beneath the surface. Then they returned to the castle.

"Whose owl am I going to use?" Harry asked as they climbed the stairs. "He told me not to use Hedwig again."

"Er, mine's still out." Esmerelda replied.

Hermione answered, "Ask Ron if you can borrow—"

"—I'm not asking Ron for anything," Harry said flatly.

"Well, borrow one of the school owls, then, anyone can use them," she settled with a sigh.

They went up to the Owlery. Hermione gave Harry a piece of parchment, a quill, and a bottle of ink, then strolled around the long lines of perches, looking at all the different owls, while Harry sat down against a wall and wrote his letter.

"What should I write?" Harry asked Esmerelda.

"Uhhh, I don't know," she replied, shrugging. "Maybe something along the lines of: 'Hey Sirius, someone's trying to kill me and they put my name in the goblet. Now I'm forced to join the Triwizard Tournament where I'll most likely face my doom'?"

His face paled. "You really think I'm doomed?"

She gave him a not-so-certain smile. "I'm sure you'll be fine."

"That doesn't make me feel better at all..." He grumbled, then went back to his letter. After some time, he finally began writing something down. Esmerelda didn't have her glasses with her, but she managed to read what he was writing.

Dear Sirius,

You told me to keep you posted on what's happening at Hogwarts, so here goes — I don't know if you've heard, but the Triwizard Tournament's happening this year and on Saturday night I got picked as a fourth champion. I don't know who put my name in the Goblet of Fire, because I didn't. The other Hogwarts champion is Cedric Diggory, from Hufflepuff.

He paused at this point.

"What's wrong?" Esmerelda asked him.

"I, er, don't know what else to write," he mumbled. He then settled with finishing his letter with a: Hope you're okay, and Buckbeak —Harry.

"Finished," he announced, getting to his feet and brushing straw off his robes. At this, Hedwig came fluttering down onto his shoulder and held out her leg.

"I can't use you," Harry told her, looking around for the school owls. "I've got to use one of these..."

Hedwig gave a very loud hoot and took off so suddenly that her talons cut into his shoulder. She kept her back to Harry all the time he was tying his letter to the leg of a large barn owl. When the barn owl had flown off, Harry reached out to stroke Hedwig, but she clicked her beak furiously and soared up into the rafters out of reach.

"First Ron, then you," Harry said angrily to himself. "This isn't my fault."

"Quite a personality she's got," Esmerelda commented, being reminded of her own owl.

"She's out to get me just like everyone else is now," he grumbled. "Come on, let's just go back to the castle..."

"You sure?" Hermione asked him worriedly.

"Yeah, might as well go and face the music," he sighed tiredly.

"You guys go ahead without me," Esmerelda said. "There's some things I gotta do..."

Harry and Hermione nodded and left. After she was sure they were out of the owlry, she Mist traveled herself to the Underworld.

"Nico," she said warmly.

"Essie," he greeted in his usual bland tone, but there was a warm glint in his dark eyes.

She opened her arms wide and he automatically responded by burrowing himself between them.

"You've been training," she noted once they pulled away. "You reek of sweat."

"Father's insistent that I master umbrakinesis," he scowled. "He's having me train with a bunch of other dead warriors and then he thought it'd be a good idea to have the Furies come with."

"The Furies...?" She frowned. She had a pretty cordial relationship with the three Furies, but she knew very well how brutal and savage they were—even during a training session. "Did they do anything to you?"

"It was just a training session," he mumbled like a child, rolling his eyes. "I hope you're not here to help me look through the Archives again because father wants me back for training in another ten minutes."

"No, that's not it," she answered.

"Does... does father have a job for you, or—?"

She shook her head. "That's not it either. I just... have to fetch something from the palace." She lied. She was actually hoping to visit her father again, but seeing Nico was an unexpected—but pleasant—surprise.

He narrowed his eyes at her, like he didn't quite believe her. Thankfully, he didn't question her. She came to the realization that Nico rarely questioned her about anything, which was a good and bad thing for the both of them.

It wasn't that she didn't trust Nico to know about her father or anything... She was scared that he would ask her to stop. She knew it wasn't right for her to keep visiting him—that it wasn't healthy for her, but she couldn't help it. She had been depraved of her father for years and now he was finally within reach of her... except he was dead.

Had he gone to Elysium or the Fields of Asphodel, then she would've left him alone because at least Elysium was inaccessible to her and he would've had his memories wiped clean if he were in the Fields of Asphodel—he wouldn't have remembered her.

But instead he was taken to the Fields of Punishment with all his memories intact. He knew exactly who she was and even better, the Fields of Punishment was perfectly accessible for her. How could she resist the temptation to visit her only father?

I'm a hypocrite, she lamented as she trudged towards the Fields of Punishment. She had told Nico to let Bianca go, but she couldn't even follow hew own advice and let her father go.

And then she spotted her father in his cell and felt her worries melt away. Or at least, some of them did.

"Something bad has happened, hasn't it," Regulus said blankly, because he was already that good at reading her facial expressions. Or maybe his parents had trained him to be good at reading people. It seemed like the sort of weird thing they would teach him.

"Someone put Harry's name in the goblet and now he's forced to join the Tournament," she explained shortly, collapsing on a beanbag.

"Oh, that's all?" He said, as if Harry being put in possible mortal danger wasn't something to worry about. "What about you?" He asked, tensing up.

She shook her head. "Not me, just Harry."

"Good," he nodded in satisfaction. "And Moody hasn't tried any more attempts on your life again?"

"Dad," she rolled her eyes. "My DADA professor is not trying to kill me.

Regulus bit back the urge to screech.

"Just," he said in a pained voice. "Just promise me you'll watch out for him

"I will," she replied. "But it's really Harry I'm more worried about—"

"—He'll be fine," he said dismissively.

"But dad—"

"—How are your classes going?" He asked more eagerly. "Passing your tests, I hope?"

She heaved a sigh. "Yes. Classes are going... well, they're going. Oh! And I met a cousin of mine!"

"A... a cousin...?" He asked wearily, knowing very well that there wasn't anyone good on his side of the family (aside from his brother but he was annoying, and there was Andromeda too and she was decent enough).

"Yeah, Étienne Rosier from Beauxbatons! Do you know him?" She asked curiously.

"I don't," he shook his head. "But I know of the Rosier family. Is he from a branch family or the main?"

She gave him a blank stare. "I'm sorry, what?"

"Those apart of the branch family are the lesser members of the house," he explained, but his poor daughter still looked lost. "You know how successors and heirs work, right?"

"Yeah..."

"Well, usually the eldest son is the heir of the family—unlike in my case where Sirius was disowned, making me the heir. When the heir's younger siblings go on to have families of their own, they are considered a branch family, while the heir's family is considered the mainline. Do you get it?"

"...No..."

How on earth could he explain this to someone who had zero understanding of how pureblood society worked?

"We're considered part of the main family," he tried again. "My father—your grandfather—was the eldest son of his parents, and his father was the eldest, and so forth. Sirius was originally the heir, but after he was disowned, so I become the successor. Any children I have, in this case it's just you, are part of the main family while Sirius would've become part of the branch family had he not been disowned."

"Okay I think I get it," she nodded slowly. "It sounds pretty old-fashioned though."

"Everything about pureblood society is old-fashioned," he informed her gently, realizing that she had probably lived her whole life open to more progressive views compared to the regressive ideologies he had been introduced to in his entire life.

"I don't know which one Étienne is from—though I don't think it really matters," she said. "His dad's name is Lazare, if that helps."

"Oh," Regulus' eyes blinked in surprise. "Oh him. Yes, I certainly know him. Your friend is definitely from the main family. Lazare's the younger brother of Aunt Druella."

"Druella?"

"Yes, the mother of Bellatrix, Andromeda, and Narcissa. She's long dead now. I'm pretty sure she's in a cell nearby," he explained with a wave his hand. "From what I can remember, Lazare and Géraldine only had three kids—Maxence, Odette, and Bernadine. I've never heard of an Étienne..."

"Oh, Étienne's, like, eight months younger than me. He was born May 27th and, well..."You probably died before he was born, went unsaid, but he understood what she was getting at. "Plus, he's not really Géraldine's kid—"

"—Lazare had an affair?!" Regulus cut in, and Esmerelda briefly felt like they were a pair of gossiping teenage girls. "With who?"

"Dunno," she shrugged. "I don't think anyone does."

"Bloody hell... and he was actually stupid enough to let everyone find out about it?!"

"Um... Well, he can't just keep lying to his own kid, you know? What was he supposed to do? Not take the kid in? Or lie?"

"That would've been a lot wiser," he stated seriously.

Her jaw dropped. "Dad, that's awful!"

He raised a hand to placate her. "I know, I know, but let me explain. Reputations are everything in the wizarding world, darling, especially for purebloods. Bastard children aren't accepted, but children who are the result of an affair have it even worse. They're usually given away, or the parent keeps them in their family under the guise of being a full-blooded family member. That Étienne boy probably isn't very welcomed if it's been openly proven that he was the result of an affair. He's the illegitimate son of a high-ranking socialite, everyone probably knows who and what he is."

Being famous sucks, Esmerelda concluded. Harry and Étienne were prime examples of how fame wasn't everything. Though she honestly couldn't believe that the wizarding world was making a big deal of some dude's affair. Yeah, he's awful for doing that, but at least have the decency to leave the kid alone!

She was drawn back to reality when her father said: "If I were you, I'd stay away from him."

She glanced over at Regulus dumbly. She gawked. "Excuse me?"

"I know it sounds bad," he said quickly. "But Étienne's probably got a lot of attention on him because of what he is. The press will be on you two immediately if they find out of your friendship. I mean, the supposed daughter of mass murderer Sirius Black befriending Lazare Rosier's illegitimate son?"

She dipped her head back and groaned. "Do people really have nothing better to do than to obsess over two kids? Is this seriously what society has come to?!"

"Yes," he answered with utmost seriousness. "I'm sorry, but it is exactly what you think. The higher profile you have, the more people want to stick their noses into your business. But that's not my greatest concern."

She frowned. "What's wrong then?"

"The Rosiers are blood supremacists, just as bad as the Blacks," he stated grimly. "One Rosier was an acolyte of Gellert Grindelwald—and he was a Dark Wizard who reigned before Voldemort. When Voldemort starting coming to power, there was a Rosier who was one of his very first supporters. Then during the First Wizarding War there was Evan Rosier, who acted as a Death Eater alongside me. The Rosiers are a dark family, Esmerelda. It's best for you to keep your distance."

"Étienne's not a bad guy," she defended him. "He's actually pretty sweet. He seems lonely too. I think he could use a friend, dad."

Regulus internally wept because WHY?!

"Just..." He said weakly. "Be careful..."

╞═════𖠁𐂃𖠁═════╡

Things didn't improve for anyone when Monday came, which didn't surprise Esmerelda at all since Monday was the worst day ever.

Harry was Hogwarts' social pariah once again. The Hufflepuffs were especially cold to him, and she wondered if Cedric had ever gone up to apologize to Harry for his previous behavior. Ron wasn't talking to him either and Hermione was getting very tired from all of this.

Esmerelda was fine up until she got the news that Professor Binns—the ghostly professor for history of magic class—had gone missing and couldn't be found. According to the paintings they had seen him, along with a lot of the other ghosts, fleeing. But fleeing where, nobody knew.

She was greatly concerned about this, so concerned that she didn't even celebrate alongside everyone else when it was announced that their history class would be cancelled until a substitute could be found. The paintings made it sound like the ghosts were scared and there wasn't really much that could scare a ghosts since they were already dead.

The only thing that really scared them was... was her, to be honest. Ever since she came back from her first visit to the Underworld, the ghosts of Hogwarts had grown uneasy around her to the point that they could no longer even looked at her. The only exception to that was Professor Binns, but even he treaded carefully with her.

She could still sense the ghosts somewhere within the castle, but didn't have the time or energy to try and look for them. All she could contemplate on was why they felt the need to run away. Was it because of her again?

What could have—

"Essie," a voice said.

She jumped and whirled around. It was Étienne and he was looking at her anxiously.

"Oh, dude, you gave me a heart attack," she breathed out.

"Sorry," he apologized quickly. "I was... I heard that you were given an early release so I came to find you..."

"Oh yeah," she nodded as they started walking around the hallway. "Our history teacher, Professor Binns never came to class. All the ghosts have run away or something."

A weird look crossed over his face as he tilted his head to the side thoughtfully. "They're in the fifth floor... somewhere deep in the east wing."

She furrowed her brows. "How... how do you know that?"

He blinked and the weird look disappeared. "O-oh, I don't... well, I don't really know how to explain it. It's just a feeling, you know?"

Esmerelda was about to reply, but the sound of jeering laughs caught her attention first. She looked forward and frowned. Ahead of them was a group of Slytherins, several other students, Harry, Ron, and Hermione. At first she thought the two boys had finally reconciled until she noticed the distance between them.

The Slytherin kids were wearing large badges at the front of their robes. On them were the bright red words: SUPPORT CEDRIC DIGGORY! THE REAL HOGWARTS CHAMPION!

"Like them, Potter?" Draco taunted. "And this isn't all they do—look!"

He pressed his badge into his chest, and the message upon it vanished, to be replaced by another one, which glowed green: POTTER STINKS!

Beside her, Étienne's shoulders slumped in defeat. "Are we really related to him...?"

"Now you understand my pain..." She sighed.

"Oh very funny," Hermione said sarcastically to Pansy Parkinson and her gang of Slytherin girls, who were laughing harder than anyone, "Really witty."

Ron was standing against the wall with Dean and Seamus. He wasn't laughing, but he wasn't sticking up for Harry either.

"Want one, Granger?" Draco asked, holding out a badge to Hermione. "I've got loads. But don't touch my hand, now. I've just washed it, you see; don't want a Mudblood sliming it up."

Harry whipped his wand out in an instant. People all around them scrambled out of the way, backing down the corridor. In the sea of faces, Esmerelda locked eyes with Bernadine, who was staring at her and her brother with a deep frown. She was staring so intently at them that one of her friends had to yank her away from the incoming duel.

"Harry!" Hermione said warningly.

"Go on, then, Potter," Draco said quietly, drawing out his own wand. "Moody's not here to look after you now—do it, if you've got the guts—"

Should I stop this? Esmerelda asked herself. I'm really too tired though...

It was already too late for her to do anything now, because they were already yelling out their hexes.

"Furnunculus!" Harry yelled.

"Densaugeo!" Draco screamed.

Jets of light shot from both wands, hit each other in midair, and ricocheted off at angles—Harry's hit Goyle in the face, and Draco's hit Hermione. Goyle bellowed and put his hands to his nose, where great ugly boils were springing up—Hermione, whimpering in panic, was clutching her mouth.

"Hermione!"

Ron had hurried forward to see what was wrong with her. Hermione's front teeth were now growing at an alarming rate. She was looking more and more like a beaver as her teeth elongated, past her bottom lip, toward her chin—panic-stricken, she felt them and let out a terrified cry.

"And what is all this noise about?" Said a soft, deadly voice.

Snape had arrived.

Esmerelda inwardly groaned. She made a bad decision to let the fight go on. Now Snape was just going to make the situation ten times worse.

The Slytherins clamored to give their explanations, but Snape pointed a long yellow finger at Draco and said, "Explain."

"Potter attacked me, sir—"

"—We attacked each other at the same time—!" Harry shouted.

"—And he hit Goyle—look—"

Snape examined Goyle, whose face now resembled something that would have been at home in a book on poisonous fungi.

"Hospital wing, Goyle," Snape said calmly.

"Malfoy got Hermione!" Ron exclaimed. "Look!"

He forced Hermione to show Snape her teeth—she was doing her best to hide them with her hands, though this was difficult as they had now grown down past her collar. Pansy Parkinson and the other Slytherin girls were doubled up with silent giggles, pointing at Hermione from behind Snape's back.

Snape looked coldly at Hermione, then said, "I see no difference."

Hermione let out a whimper. Her eyes filled with tears, she turned on her heel and ran all the way up the corridor and out of sight.

The foreign students who had the misfortune of being at the scene, dropped their jaws in appalling shock.

Naturally, Harry and Ron started yelling at him in the loudest voices they could imagine. The foreign students were certainly getting some drama out of this

"Let's see," Snape drawled, interrupting them both. "Fifty points from Gryffindor and a detention each for Potter and Weasley. Now... clear out."

Everyone rushed out quickly.

"Is, um, is that normal? Could the professor really act that way?" Étienne asked in concern.

"Legally? No. But this school's fucked up so," she shrugged, which only made him grow increasingly more worried.

"But why hasn't he been fired—"

"—Étienne." A curt voice interrupted him. He stiffened. Esmerelda turned around and found Bernadine standing behind them, a tight smile on her face.

"Bernadine..." He muttered.

Bernadine looked over at Esmerelda. "I'm sorry, do you mind if I speak to my brother about something? I've got a letter from our family that we need to discuss."

Esmerelda's eyes widened. "Oh gods, yeah, of course." She nodded, shot Étienne an uneasy smile, and then hurried down the hallway.

Once she was out of earshot, Bernadine grabbed Étienne by the sleeve of his shirt and began dragging him to a secluded room.

"What do you think you are doing?!" She hissed at him in rapid French.

He wrenched his arm free and gave her an angry glare. "What do you want, Bernadine?"

"Stay away from her," she said in a warning tone. "I mean it, Étienne. I don't know what you're planning, but—"

"—I'm not planning anything!" His voice rose. "What, are you saying I can't have friends in Hogwarts now?"

She narrowed her blue eyes at him, the suspicious look never fading away. "Just watch yourself... If anything happens, if you slip up—"

"—I won't," he said through gritted teeth.

"You will," she said darkly. "You always fuck things up, Étienne. Like what happened with Topsy. That girl you're always clinging onto will end up just like her if you don't stay away."

Étienne's glare only worsened, but Bernadine didn't stand down.

"Leave her alone," she said sternly. "You'll slip up and everyone's going to know it was you. I can't risk that, Étienne. I can't have people thinking that my family has been harboring a Dark Wizard like you."

— author's note —

No meme this time guys cuz I got something to tell you...

I just finished writing the Harry Potter arc for this book so now I'll be moving on to The Last Olympian! This also means that I've already written the chapter about the Third Task... 😈

But I won't tell you what happens because I'm evil. I'm gonna let you suffer from the suspense 😈 😈 😈

Also take a look at this moodboard Pipsi09 sent to me!