The Red Rose That Has Green Thorns

The six of us that were in the small room kind of congregated together, moving a bit farther in and waiting for the doorknob to turn and the - as of that moment, mystery - judges to enter with the professors.

“I don’t think I ‘ave ever been zis nervous,” Andy whispered to me, in a slightly carrying way. I let out an uncharacteristic giggle, and Scorpius raised an eyebrow at me.

“I don’t think I have, either,” I admitted to Andy, just as the silver door handle turned.

“And here they are,” Professor Collins stood aside to let the two - very familiar - people enter. “Champions, these are your judges - aside from your Headmaster or Headmistress, that is. First, we have Gwenog Jones, formerly the captain of the Holyhead Harpies, and now the head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports. Next is Mr. Percy Weasley, who is head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation. I believe that Rose, however, already knew this, no?”

“Hi, Uncle Percy,” I smiled at him, a little nervous still, “Hi, Gwen.”

“Hello, Rosie,” Uncle Percy gave a small grin - so small that only a Weasley would have noticed it - and my nerves subsided.

“Hello,” Gwenog Jones gave a quick grin.

Aunt Ginny had played for the Harpies for several years and was still a reserve for them, and Gwenog had been the captain when she’d joined. Because of this, I’d met Gwenog two or three times before. I found her a kind of easy-going woman but I knew not to expect her to go easy on Scorpius and I. If anything, the former captain of the Holyhead Harpies was fair.

“You’re on speaking terms with ‘er, too?!” Andy whispered to me as the professors talked for a moment. Madame Maxime had started to make a big deal about whether “ze judging would still be fair” since I knew both of the judges personally.

“Yeah. My Aunt Ginny used to play - now she’s on the reserve team.” I said softly, shrugging.

“Oh, yes! Ginny Potter, right?”

“Yup. That’s her. The Harpies your favorite team, or something?” it was teasingly, but Andy nodded enthusiastically.

“Yes!” she looked over at where the conversation that the professors and the judges were having was starting to simmer down a bit. “I am sorry about Madame Maxime,” she muttered softly, looking very, very apologetic.

“It’s fine,” I replied, smiling reassuringly. “It’s only natural, no?”

“True.”

We hushed as the Heads and judges and the other professors who had come along turned to face us. My fingers twitched again, and I clenched them within the folds of my robes to resist the urge to grab Scorpius’ hand again.

“There are rules we must discuss,” Gwen said, rolling up her sleeves as she drew her wand. With a few deft flicks, a table with eleven chairs - six on one side, five on the other - appeared. “Champions, fellow judges, do sit, please.”

The six students sat on the side clearly marked for us by the six chairs, Scorpius and I sitting in the far right two and the Durmstrang champions in the far left two. Andy was by me in the middle, with Carl beside her. Professor Collins sat across from Scorpius, Uncle Viktor across from Carmela (who was second from the other end), Madame Maxime sat across from Carl, Uncle Percy across from me, and Gwen across from Andy. Around us, the other professors conjured their own chairs - of varying degrees of comfort ability, of course - and settled down.

“Now that we are all seated,” Gwen said, “We will begin. Percy?”

“Yes. Well, first of all, this tournament is, quite obviously, different from those previous. The difference, of course, being that you have entered in teams this time around. Not only does this mean that you will have double the ability to handle difficult situations, but also that the situations will be more difficult than ever before. The challenges you face will be greater, and you must be prepared to face that. Am I understood?”

Nods came from all of us on my side of the table - namely, the champions.

“As the danger will be higher than ever,” Gwen picked up the thread of the conversation, “so, too, will be the security. We do not want any mishaps this time around.”

“The only reason there was a mishap last time was because Voldemort killed him,” a voice, laden with disgust, said in a low voice. I was kind of surprised at his outspokenness, and turned to look curiously at Scorpius. He shrugged, justifying his statement only with, “It’s true.”

“Be that as it may,” Gwen said, although her eyes had shown that she agreed with what Scorpius had said, “we will be taken any and every precaution necessary to ensure the safety of the six of you.”

“Understandable,” Carmela said, nodding.

Professors and champions alike voiced our murmurs of agreement here.

“Anyway,” Uncle Percy cut in, no-nonsense, “there will be no hexing, jinxing, cursing, or bribing the opposition. If anyone is caught doing so, your team will be moved into last position. If this is before the last event you are, as you might say, screwed. There are stricter rules in place, but there are also more hints. For example, one I am supposed to go ahead and give: brush up on your understanding of rhyming phrases. This will be very useful in the second task, come February. Your first task will be in three weeks, the last week of November. That is all for now.”

I already felt the blood - rather than rising to my cheeks, in traditional Weasley fashion - leaving my cheeks. I glanced at Scorpius, who gazed back at me with eyes slightly widened in the realization. I’d told him about my dreams, after all.

Could this all mean that Spunky isn’t just a figure in my subconscious?