Rowan walked towards the Great Hall groggily, slumping down into a seat at her table with a tired sigh. She made herself a small plate of food, but didn't actually eat it. Her mind wondered, and eyes stared into space as she played around with her food, mushed it and pushed it around with her fork. She could feel eyes on her, but she paid them no mind, at least, she tried to. Suddenly, her head snapped up when she heard people sit beside and across from her. It was Ryker, Ethan, Dakota and June. 

"Morning," Ethan chirped, reaching forward to grab a sausage or two to put on his plate. 

"You look horrible," Ryker told her before she got the chance to speak, building his plate of breakfast foods.

"Yeah, did you get any sleep last night?" Dakota then asked her, scooping spoonfuls of scrambled eggs onto his plate. 

"I would think not, what with you being one of the champions representing the school in the tournament now," June spoke, taking a sip from her pumpkin juice-filled goblet. 

"About that, how did you become one of the champions? I mean, you're fourteen- right?" Ethan jumped in, which made Rowan roll her eyes, figuring out the sudden appearance of her brother and his friends. They wanted information. Gossip. 

"And here I though you came here to see how you're older sister is doing," Rowan pretended to be upset, but a smile found its way on her face and a chuckle forced its way out of her throat. She could never be upset with her brother. "And yes, I am fourteen. Before you ask anything else, I don't know how my name found its way in the Goblet of Fire, nor do I know the reason why. This is as confusing to me as it is to you."

"How are you feeling?" Ryker asked in concern, eyeing the way she'd been pushing the food on her plate around, and the dark under-eye circles that popped out against her pale skin. 

"Not very great, to be honest. I'm overwhelmed to say the least," she sighed again, giving up on Breakfast and pushing the plate away from her. 

"Well, we'll be rooting for you to win- Potter and Diggory can go to hell," June grinned, pulling out her tongue when the three boys around her gasped at her use of language, and grasped their hearts in jest. However, they did nod and smile widely at her, showing their support of her.

"I'm glad to hear that," Rowan chuckled and went to say more, when she spotted her owl, Damaris. Her owl was a beautiful long-eared owl, with wide amber eyes and feathers painted in bronzes, browns and coppers, with the occasional black at the tips. Damaris had a small package clasped in her talons, which she released in the air and landed swiftly on Rowan's shoulder. 

"Good girl," Rowan cooed after catching the small package and feeding the gentle owl a piece of bread. She tore up more pieces of bread and set them on the plate in front of her, gesturing for her owl to hop onto the table to eat. Damaris hooted and jumped onto the table, happily eating the food that was laid out for her. "Go on, she won't bite- not unless she has to," Rowan told June who was looking at the bird with interest. The younger girl brightened and ran her fingers through the owl's feathers, smiling when the owl hooted at her, leaning its small head towards her. 

Opening the package, she saw a letter inside, covering what was underneath. The purple snapdragon flower wax seal of the Devearaux family broke with a satisfying crisp as Rowan tore the parchment out of its envelope. 

My dearest Rowan, 

Your mother and I received news about you being chosen to be a champion in the Triwizard Tournament, and we are very worried for you. I did all but petrify your mother to keep her from storming Hogwarts and demanding that you being taken out of the tournament- for a badger she is extremely strong! Nonetheless, your mother and I paid Albus Dumbledore a visit early this morning, and spoke our concerns, to which we were disappointed when your headmaster told us that there was nothing to be done. I am truly sorry that your mother and I can't be there for you in person. 

However young you are, Row, we know that you are more than capable in competing- in winning. You are a brave, intelligent young girl who strives to be more than the average witch, and as your parents, we couldn't be more proud. 

Please congratulate Ryker for us, as we are so proud of him being sorted into Gryffindor. Such a contrasting family! One that I could't see myself to be apart from. 

I hope this dragon flower brings you confidence and comforts you in difficult times. It had been enchanted to never age, and to glow in the dark. Your mother and I love both you and Ryker with all our hearts. To the moon and back. In this life and the next. 

Lots of love,

Your father

M.D.

Looking down, Rowan fingered the soft petals of the beautiful purple snapdragon flower lying at the bottom of the package. Its stem never seemed so green, the petals so pigmented, and the scent so fresh and sweet. 

Like home in the summer, Rowan thought with a smile on her face. She pulled the flower out of the package, and held it against her nose, taking a generous whiff of the sweet-smelling flower. 

"That is a beautiful flower," June told her, still petting the owl who turned to Rowan expectantly. But, when it received nothing other than a nod, it unfolded its wings and jumped up, soaring away back to the Owlery. 

"Thank you. It's our family's emblem, has been for centuries," Rowan smiled, making eye contact with Ryker who had been eyeing the flower with a smile. "Mum and dad are proud of you for getting sorted into Gryffindor. You should probably write to them soon."

"I will," he nodded at her, shoving a strip of bacon into his mouth. Rowan crinkled her nose at his disgusting table manners and stood up, grabbing her bag and flower. 

"Well, I must be going. I'll see you later?" She smiled when the three first years nodded their heads at her, before returning their attention to each other, eating and speaking and laughing. Aside from the horrendous table manners, and the lack of restraint when it comes to chewing and speaking, she was glad that the three eleven year olds maintained their friendship even though they were sorted into different houses. 

*****

Rowan blinked when the flash of a camera blinded her eyes for a second, refraining for breaking her elegant posture to rub her eyes. She was sitting in a chair besides Fleur Delacour in the Trophy Room, with Harry Potter standing behind the two girls, and Cedric Diggory and Victor Krum on either side of him. 

A blonde woman in emerald green clothing and bright red lipstick walked to stand before them, offering her hand as a greeting as she introduced herself.

"What a charismatic group. I'm Rita Skeeter," she shook all their hands before standing back, her glasses edging down the bridge of her nose. "I write for the Daily Prophet. But of course, you know that, don't you? It's you, we don't know. You're the juicy news. What quirks lurk beneath those rosy cheeks?" She asked as she brushed her fingers along Fleur's cheek, then promptly slapped it softly. 

"What mysteries do the muscles mask? Does courage lie beneath those curls? In short, what makes a champion tick?" She continued to ask, going around Fleur to ruffle Cedric's hair and stand between the two Hogwarts boys. "'Me, Myself, and I', want to know. Not to mention, my avid readers. So, who's feeling up to sharing? Hm?"

Rowan certainly did not want to be anywhere near the woman. She felt mildly uncomfortable around her gaze, and she did not like the way Rita kept running her tongue over her front teeth and eyeing the boys like they were pieces of candy. She thought it was incredibly inappropriate.

"Shall we start with the youngest? Lovely," Rowan sighed in relief when Rita dragged Harry away by the arm. She kept silent about the fact that she was probably the youngest out of the group, having been born on the seventh of October. She technically started going to Hogwarts a year younger than everybody else, which means that she was supposed to be a third year now, but her parents had convinced Dumbledore that just because she turned 11 two months or so after the school year officially started, does not mean that she shouldn't start her schooling. There was an awkward tension as the four champions were left to themselves for the time being, while Rita interviewed Harry. Rowan wanted to say something, it was obvious by the continuous action of opening and closing her mouth, but in the end, she kept her moth shut, and instead, pulled a book out of her bag that she discarded a few feet away from the chair she was sitting on. 

It seemed like no time at all when Rita appeared, grabbing Rowan by the arm and dragging her towards a broom cupboard. She pushed the younger girl onto a stool chair and sat in front of her, her magical feathered pen on top of a notebook at the ready. 

"Now, how did this girl of twelve manage to become one of the champions?" Rita asked with raised eyebrows, sucking on her top front teeth with her tongue. 

"Uh, I'm fourteen," Rowan told her, unflinching when Rita sent her a sharp look.

"You seem smart, by the colors you sport on your tie, yet couldn't possibly be smart enough to be able to enter this prestigious, albeit deadly, tournament- at least, not for a twelve-year-old," Rowan kept getting distracted by the magical pen that scratched on top of the book, recording Rita's words and her responses. 

"I'm fourteen, and I didn't enter the tournament," Rowan attempted to tell the older woman, but she should have known that it was gone into deaf ears. 

"Who did you persuade to put forth your name-"

"I didn't tell anyone to write my name in the bloody Goblet! I have no idea how I got chosen, and I bloody well didn't want to either way!" Rowan burst out, growing tired and frustrated by how nobody believed her when she said that she had absolutely nothing to do with how her name ended up in the Goblet of Fire. 

"Ooh, you've got fire," Rita chuckled with a twisted grin, peering at her through her glasses. "Did that rebellious attitude from before or after you got chosen to compete?"

"Rebellious?" Rowan asked in disbelief, not sure if she was hearing correctly. 

"Of course, knowing your background, it was bound to happen," Rita hummed, crossing one leg over the other.

"What?" Rowan was confused now. 

"Of course, shy girl, probably antisocial, would probably wind up dating a book rather than an actual human being... this rebellious act was inevitable- Yes! I see it now: Rebellious Twelve Year Old Puts Forth Her Name For Attention," Rita envisioned, her hands spread out as she saw the headlines in her mind. 

"What?" Rowan exclaimed, her cheeks growing red in anger. She can only be patient for so long. "I did not enter this blasted tournament, and even if I did- which I didn't!- I would certainly not do it for attention!" 

She stood up from her seat and swiftly exited the small room, grabbing her bag and discarded book before storming out of the Trophy Room, ignoring the bewildered and confused looks the other champions had sent her.