Overly Curious Bird-lady

(Two more chapters in the Cheese Society! Here you!)

For a reason unknown to Magnus, the powers that be had decided that the fairest way to choose the competitors in the absolute pseudo-gladiatorial death trap they call Triwizard Tournament was the ancient and largely unknown goblet of fire.

Goblet of Fire, which after minimal research by a certain amber eyed paranoid mess of a man, was revealed to hold over three dozen enchantments of the more vicious kind as well as more contracts than strictly healthy.

In essence, the goblet was less of a magical sorting device and more of a highly powerful contract maker between a number of parties.

'But I have to admit.' Magnus thought, eyeing the fiery artifact in the corner of his eyes. 'The enchantments are really good.'

The Slytherin posing as a Ravenclaw whose father is a Gryffindor and cousin a Hufflepuff was more than half tempted to mess with it, if only to better understand its inner workings.

'But no, the old goat had to make an ironclad age line.' He sighed, further resenting Albus-Diabetes-Dumbledore.

It wasn't quite as bad as fiddling with his mind, but it was close.

"Done romancing the goblet of fire?" Padma whispered, her face had a discreet grin that told him 'I know something you don't.'

"Just about." He answered, nose scrunching at yet another student helping himself to the hellish beverage that is pumpkin juice.

Alas it was now All Hallows Eve, so pumpkins were quite literally everywhere. He was glad it was also accessorily the night of the Triwizard Selection; the champions foolishly would be nominated, celebrated then promptly sent to their deaths.

Unless their name is Potter, then they are nothing but glory seeking selfish parts...just like their father.

'If I was him, I would've poisoned Snape years ago.' He thought idly, looking beyond a few beauxbatons students toward the Gryffindor table. 'Preferably with Aconite.'

Harry wouldn't have to participate in this fourth year deadly adventure, thanks to him. Just like he didn't risk his life against dementors, or fought a basilisk and almost died.

The boy was happier for it, even though it cost him a lot of confidence building and made him much weaker than his fictional counterpart.

His bond with Ronald and Hermione was the same, really. The absence of repetitive life and death situations didn't allow the same kind of nearly unbreakable friendship to form. Harry didn't save Ginevera, Hermione didn't get petrified, His friends didn't defend him against the murderous Sirius Black nor will they doubt him in the triwizard tournament.

They had a relatively normal life, except for their first year.

'This Harry won't throw his life away to fight Voldemort.' Magnus thought, watching him laugh with the very much drooling Weasley.

'Nor will he need to.'

The dark lord really wasn't a factor anymore, not without servants to help him.

"Hm? so she's not the only one staring, huh." Padma snickered at him, doubling down when he raised an eyebrow.

"Unless many things changed when I wasn't paying attention, Potter and Weasley are very much 'He's. For the sake of my sanity, I will assume you're talking about Granger." Magnus said, "And no Padma, I am not into the bushy bossy type."

Luna choked on her drink, letting out a very unladylike snort. Padma was even worse for wear, now openly laughing.

"Good for you, I guess." She calmed down. "But I was talking about frenchie over there."

He looked back, but didn't see anyone staring at him. Except Delacour, but she was a creep and therefore didn't count.

A very pretty creep, but a creep nonetheless.

Magnus still couldn't decide whether her eyes were green or blue, but didn't dwell on it too much as he turned back to Padma and her teasing smile.

"I'm not interested in her."

"I believe you." She said nonchalantly, "But it doesn't change the fact that she is interested, and Delacour is by far the most attractive witch in Hogwarts."

"And?" He drank some lemonade, "There are more important things than good looks."

"Oh, so you're one of those…" She smiled "The beauty is on the inside kind of guy, that's sweet."

"No, beauty is on the outside, and it is a big factor." He explained, looking at her as if she had two heads. "But not the only factor."

"That's less sweet."

Magnus shrugged, finishing his food in a comfortable silence.

Well, as much silence as the great hall allowed.

"She's still looking at you." Padma whispered in a sing-song voice.

Sigh

This was going to be a long night.

E+S

Fleur was feeling many things in this All Hallows Eve.

Apprehension, Excitement, Pride.

Much of them had to do with the Triwizard Tournament. She had put her name in the goblet the night before, as was expected of her. She would be chosen as the Beauxbatons champion, if the goblet was any good, of that she had no doubt.

She was the best in her school, and soon she'll prove her superiority to the others.

The promise of eternal glory was appealing, the galleons didn't hurt for a soon to be independent witch and the occasion was simply too perfect to miss.

It wasn't everyday she was given the opportunity to prove to everyone that Fleur Delacour is their better.

More than just another pretty face.

Her appearance was perfect, of that she had no doubt. Fleur didn't need her allure to charm others, but it did not help her purpose. It never did.

So many foolish, bitter girls blamed her wicked 'nature' for their weak willed boyfriend's lack of loyalty. People she called friends abandoned her, insulted her for things she couldn't control.

So many idiot boys read a few books on Veela, and decided they would 'tame' the beast and her entire family. Wizards saw how beautiful they were, noted their ability to conjure desire in the opposite gender and decided they were sexual creatures.

So many jealous people, who saw her looks and heritage and decided she'd doubtlessly leverage it to have her way, because that was what they would do in her place.

'Compared to them, the drooling little boys are a blessing.' She thought, seeing yet another particularly weak willed student look at her like a piece of meat.

The last thought brought her to her newest problem.

The boy from the world cup had flaunted his ability to resist the allure, but she knew they all succumbed eventually. People had lapses, large and small, where they gave in and became enthralled if only for a second.

He didn't.

Nor did he seem particularly impressed by her looks, much to her frustration.

Fleur was the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen, the most beautiful he will ever see. But he cared more about his food or the magnificent piece of enchantment over there than he did about her, as much as the thought troubled her.

The second she could understand, but the first was simply insulting.

She glared at his back for a while, too much time perhaps. She realized when turned around, much to her embarrassment.

But yet again he did not look at her, yet again he ignored her.

'I think I hate him.'

Fleur was being unreasonable, she knew that. But she didn't care, her desires were mutually exclusive and honestly confusing but she didn't want to change that.

So she ignored it, put it aside to concentrate on the tournament and her perfect victory. It was much better, less confusing too. Dangerous tasks she could deal with, not complicated social interactions.

Just when she managed to throw him off her mind and focus on what truly mattered, the boy looked at her with the most dismissive gaze Fleur Delacour was ever given.

'No, I definitely hate him.'

This was going to be a long night.

…

Dumbledore in all his mind peeking glory and strange garments stood in the great hall, legions of excited students waiting for him to nominate the three so called 'champions' who will compete for eternal glory.

Magnus was much more amused by the new bearded weasley twins than this whole situation, but he had to suffer through it.

"The Drumstrang champion is Victor Krum!" He called out, the crowd went mad.

Magnus was almost certain Ronald would faint, or ask him to play for the Chudley Cannons; both would be hilarious.

The highly competitive meathead headed out to the champions room, by now used to the love of the crowds.

"Representing Hogwarts is our very own Cedric Diggory!" Dumbledore sounded much more enthusiastic.

The House of the Rest went wild, though it was much less intense than Krum's applause. Magnus had no opinion of Cedirc Diggory, except for some lingering hate he should direct toward Edward Cullen.

Hopefully, this one didn't like watching teenage girls sleep.

"The champion for Beauxbaton...is Fleur Delacour."

'Now this was weird.' Magnus thought, and he wasn't the only one.

The male population went mad, the female one much more subdued. But Delacour didn't seem to care, walking to the champions room with all the elegance she'd displayed so far; chin high and face calm.

This raised Magnus's estimation of her, but she had yet to prove if it was justified pride or misplaced arrogance.

'She's still a creep.' He shrugged, waiting for Dumbledore to finish his speech!

"Excellent, we now have our three champions! But in the end only one will go down in history, only one will hoist this chalice of champions. This vessel of victory!" He waved his hand, and the previously hidden cup of ornate silver was revealed. "The triwizard cup!"

The Goblet of fire did not spill any other name, and the feast ended in peace with many disappointed students but three very excited schools.

This would be yet another year of peace.

"You said a pretty face wasn't enough, what about a triwizard champion?" Padma asked him with a shit-eating grin.

"Shut up."