Rowan returned to the Ravenclaw Common Room after that ridiculous interview- if it can even be called that. Her emotions were all over the place, and she was not in the mood to do anything at the moment, let alone interact with her jealous, Type-A peers. But alas, said peers were desperate to talk to her, or more accurately, accuse her and be mean to her.

"So how'd you do it? What's your secret?" Rowan heard from behind her as she stood staring at the fire burning in the mantle. She had her book clutched to her chest, and her eyes blurring the warm colors of the brilliant fire as her mind strayed from reality. Her train of thought only broke when she heard the familiar snooty, high-pitched voice. It was Morgana James. One of her- say, enemies.

"How do I keep my intellect firmly above the below-average line? I never thought I'd finally hear you ask that question. To answer your desperately needed question, I read. I study- I basically do anything that doesn't involve sticking my tongue down someone's throat just so they could do my homework because I'm too lazy to do it myself," Rowan answered with a causal tone, as if she was uninterested with the whole conversation- uninterested with the girl herself. Her answer was accompanied by many laughs and OOOHS and hollers coming from hormonal teenagers who have nothing better to do than cheer on a cat fight.

"How dare you?" Morgana bellowed, enraged, striding forward until she was only but half a foot away from the girl.

"What? How dare I question your embarrassing actions that do nothing but drag our house name into the dirt? I'm not the only one who's thought it, nor will I be the last if you continue with your ghastly ways," Rowan did not know where those words were coming from. It was as if she had finally cracked after the series of events that crashed her life only a couple months ago. Today was her tipping point, and Morgana only blew the embers that made the raging fire.

"You bi-" Morgana cut herself off by throwing herself at Rowan, dragging a hand across her face, emitting a loud and painful sound. The entire Common Room was silent within seconds. Not a pin drop was heard as they watched with wide eyes how Morgana slapped Rowan for the second time before pushing her roughly backward, and kicking her knee not a second later. Everybody knew Morgana was stronger than the average Ravenclaw girl; she was a quidditch player, and a damn good one at that.

Everything then took a turn to its worse. When Rowan toppled backward with an audible gasp, her arms springing out to her sides trying to catch anything that would break her fall. Nothing did, and she went crashing into the ground. A heartbeat later, everybody was crying out loud and shrieking, shouting at each other to call Professor Flitwick or Madam Pomfrey or to help the poor fourth year champion. Rowan herself lay in shock, staring from the fireplace- at the raging flames that were not even a foot away from her face, to her right hand, that was digging a hole in the burning wood. Rowan did not believe what she was seeing, and neither could Morgana or anyone else who witnessed what had happened. As Rowan fell, her right arm- completely stretched out in effort to grab something- had crashed into the fireplace as her body fell to the carpeted ground. Her whole sleeve caught on fire, but in all curiousness, she did not feel the pain, she only felt the comforting heat of the flames. Seconds later, her entire being was caught in flames, and yet again, she did not feel any pain whatsoever.

"Merlin's beard!" Rowan heard Professor Flitwick yell out before she felt the flames encasing her evaporate. Unfortunately, the flames weren't the only thing that evaporated, her clothes did too. Except for her shiny black flats, which was odd to say the least. Immediately, Rowan felt her cheeks burn a bright pink as she quickly scrunched up into a ball, desperately trying to hide herself in her arms to save what little dignity she had left. 

"Oh dear," Flitwick's eyes widened before he waved his wand once more and a nearby blanket came shooting towards Rowan, wrapping her up and hiding everything that didn't need to be seen by anyone. "Ms. Deveraux are you alright?"

"Of course she's not alright professor, she was on fire! How is she even alive right now?" A scared second year Ravenclaw yelled out, backing away to give even more space for the mortified white-haired girl.

"Ms. Deveraux- Ms. Deveraux! If you could just answer me," Flitwick was panicking, that much was clear. He had never seen someone catch on fire and come out of it unscathed- he had never seen anyone catch on fire period! When Rowan made no move to even blink let alone speak, Flitwick waved his wand and levitated his student, yelling at one of the paintings (whom had also stopped in horror and wonder to stare at the events that unfolded minutes ago) to inform Madam Pomfrey of their arrival, and then yelling at his remaining students to make way for them and to head on to the Great Hall for dinner.

The next half hour was a blur to Rowan. All she remembered was staring at a high ceiling, the faces of Professor Snape, Professor Moody, Professor McGonagall, Professor Flitwick, Professor Sprout, Madam Pomfrey and Professor Dumbledore appearing in her line of vision at varying times, the sounds of her heartbeat ringing in her ears, drowning out everything else until everything darkened to a deep dark black.

Professor Sprout stared at the now unconscious fourth year Ravenclaw girl-champion in wonder. Professor Flitwick had just finished explaining what had happened after Madam Pomfrey dribbled a sleeping potion into the girl's colorless mouth. It wasn't only the girl's mouth that was devoid of any color, it was her entire being; it was like any sign of the blood rushing underneath her pale skin had disappeared, leaving the girl sickly pale- almost grey in color. To say she was in shock was the understatement of the year.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but did you say you saw Ms. Deveraux here catch on fire, and come out unscathed- except for her clothes, of course?" Professor Flitwick nodded once more when Professor Moody cut in, his voice gruff and his magical eye whizzing and turning in unnatural angles.

"How could this be? I've already examined her- she's perfectly fine, hair, fingernails and all! Things that would have no doubt disappeared if it were someone else catching on fire, gods forbid!" Madam Pomfrey exclaimed, her usually stern eyes melting into warm concern.

The professors and the healer fell silent, all silently watching the girl sleep almost peacefully, nothing indicating a fire had smoldered her flawless and miraculously undamaged skin. None knew what to do about the whole situation. By now, the whole school- visitors as well- would have heard of what happened by now, and they would be asking questions. The Tri-Wizard Tournament director would be asking questions and demanding answers, the other champions would be asking questions and the other headmaster and headmistress would be wondering if she would be forfeited. No one knew how this could happen, except for two- possible three- people in this very room. 

"Professors, I encourage you to join the others in the Great Hall for Dinner. Reassure your students Fillius and calm them down, tell them their friend will be alright, then find out what had happened in the Common Room," Dumbledore finally spoke up, looking up from his half-moon spectacles. The professors took that as their sign to leave the Hospital Wing, with them following his orders and Poppy returning to her office after sneaking another glance at her patient. "Not you Severus, I'd like a word."

Said professor halted in his slow, measured steps, and rose an eyebrow, nonetheless remaining in the room as the others exited before him. The giant doors shut heavily, leaving the two men staring at the girl, both thinking the exact same thing. 

It has begun.