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Sweden vs Ireland; Year 4 - Day 16 - QWC - Day 4 - 12pm
Topic Started: Jan 17 2015, 01:49:26 PM (2,060 Views)
Jessica Weasley
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Charms Professor

Sweden vs Ireland

Match Information: Kicks off at 12:30pm on the 8th August 2033. Second match of the day.

Sweden:

  • Chasers: Abigael Olsen, Hugo Larsson, Maxwell Stenberg
  • Beaters: Alexander DeWitt and Emilia Svenson
  • Keeper: Moa Kron [Captain]
  • Seeker: Anton Borg

Coach: Christoffer Winter


Ireland:

  • Chasers: Siobhan Breen, Oisin Foley, Conor Tierney
  • Beaters: Cian Ward and Anna Davin
  • Keeper: Saoirse Gallagher
  • Seeker: Ava O’Brien [Captain]

Coach: Liam Boyle


Referee: Zachary Paterson
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Jessica Weasley
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Charms Professor

It had been around an hour since the dramatic match of Morocco verses Japan had concluded. Amelia had ran to the match, thinking she must have missed some of it while Jessica went to meet her own team. Their match was planned to be last and her team was pretty nervous about going up against Russia. Because of this Jessica decided that after their morning practice they should all go and watch the second match of the day, just so they could get some inspiration.

So here they all sat in the England Team booth. A booth for watching games was given to each team so that if they were out of the cup they could still watch other teams together. Jessica was excited to see Alexander DeWitt play, the boy had been at Hogwarts during the triwizard tournament and Jessica was pretty sure that she had heard Carmen mention him once or twice.

“If we win the next match we’ll be up against whoever wins this!” Ralph yelled as he gulped back a cup of orange juice. Jessica turned to look at him as another teammate, Primrose, smacked his arm.

“We still have Russia to go up against, Russia! They are brutal.” She said with a firm voice, Jessica nodded her head and turned back to look at the field. It was around half an hour until the match was meant to kick off.

“Russia have caused more injuries in matches than any other team in the world cup history, they aren’t known for playing fairly.” Jessica explained with a small hum. “But we are fast, just dodge them as much as you can. One hit from them and you might get into trouble.” Jessica wanted them to tire the other team out and use speed to their advantage, although their team was a feisty one. There was no doubt that something was going to go down in their match, be it injuries or arguments starting on the pitch. But Jessica was confident in their team, as long as they tried their best and didn’t have a colossal defeat their confidence would still remain. Win or lose, the team was doing good this year.
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Melissa Levander
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Melissa had not attended the first Sweden match, she had forgotten what time it was meant to take place and because of this she couldn’t watch them win. Today they were playing again and Melissa had no doubt that her team would win. There was also another reason she had come to the match. Former Durmstrang student Alexander DeWitt was playing for the Swedish team, Melissa had spoken to him once or twice but he was a few years older than her. She had found out from fellow classmates what had happened during the tournament, he was a tribute and had managed to survive the horrors of the death match.

None of the competitors had died, but she knew others had died including her headmaster. It was a sombre mood when she returned to her school that year, some of the students had transferred to Hogwarts and Melissa continued her studies. There had been so many rumours of what had been going on in Hogwarts it was hard to ignore it really. Melissa wondered whether she should have gone to the school, just so she could have seen it all for herself. But Durmstrang was where she belonged.

Melissa wore her countries colours on her t-shirt, bright yellow and blue, but other than that she wore dark ripped leggings and black nail polish. Her hair fell down in front of her shoulders as she rested her elbows on the edge of the stands. Everywhere was slowly filling up and Melissa had sent her little brothers to go get her some drinks and a snack. Her eyes followed the lines of the pitch, they were at just the right height so they could see everything which happened. She supposed it was lucky for her, seeing as her father had a high job which allowed them to get such seats. Melissa looked over to the seats next to her, they were empty. Waiting for someone to take up their place. She wondered whether they would be fans of Sweden or Ireland.

But it wasn’t like it mattered, as long as they weren’t loud and annoying.
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Melissa Levander
Pureblood
Swedish
Durmstrang student


I know what I want
and I’ll get what I need

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Fiona Finnigan
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“Come on Ireland!” Seamus Finnigan yelled as he walked up the steps to his seats, he had the Irish flag painted on his cheeks. As did his daughter. Fiona followed her father up the steps with her face painted and her hair messily flying everywhere. She had a flower crown on her head for whatever reason. She rushed up to the top of the steps and walked over to where there were four seats. She turned to look at her dad, he nodded and smiled to her.

“Come on Ireland!” Fiona repeated loudly clapping her hands together as she did so. Seamus dropped his bags onto the ground and turned to the rest of his family. Dominic had been complaining of hunger since they had gotten to the stands and Fiona’s mother had stated she needed to pop to the loo. Seamus looked between them all before turning to Fiona.

“We’re gonna get some food, you okay here?” He quickly asked, Fiona looked up to him and nodded. Seamus quickly exited their seats with his son and wife while Fiona wondered what kinds of food her father would bring back. It was bound to be something odd. Her eyes darted to the woman who stood next to her, she was tall. Fiona looked at the clothes she was wearing and almost gasped, she was here rooting for Sweden!

“You’re Swedish?” She suddenly asked in her thick accent. “I hope you aren’t expecting a win, us Irish know what we’re doin’!” Fiona boasted with a smirk, it was similar to her fathers. She shoved her hands onto her hips and pushed her chest out, as though she was bigging herself up.

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Fiona Finnigan
Fifth Year
Prone to Explosions

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eye of rabbit, harp string hum, turn this water into rum...
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Melissa Levander
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An Irish family took the seats next to Melissa and all she could do was scoff and roll her eyes at her luck. She hoped they were gracious losers because there was no chance that Sweden was going to lose to Ireland. Not a chance in hell. Melissa glanced to the seats next to her and frowned to herself, it was pretty boring being stood here on her own. But at the same time she didn’t want her brothers to come storming back up the stands yelling about their food and how their team was the best. Everyone here was too normal, they all liked themselves far too much and were full of themselves to top it all off. Melissa knew that none of them would actually get what she was about, or why she wasn’t cheering loudly like the rest of the idiots around her.

She was so much better than them, how could they not see this? With their scraggy hair and blotchy painted faces. It was sad that they all thought this made them oh so cool, as though that really mattered. A thick accent plucked her from her thoughts, an Irish one at that. Melissa tuned and looked down upon the Irish kid who had stood next to her. She was full of confidence with her face painted, she had to be a Hogwarts kid. Those kids stuck out like sore thumbs.

“Små barn tycker om att prata stort? Patetiska.” Melissa smirked, she turned to look back at the pitch. “You have no chance, don’t gråta too hard when Ireland lose.” Melissa bit back looking down to the girl. She was far too confident, just like the others, but she didn’t dart her head around desperate for approval of others. Not like most of the students she met. That was a tad bit interesting. Melissa reasoned that this girl must be decent company.

“Hogwarts kid right?” Melissa asked bluntly, her nails began to tap on the steel bar in front of her.
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Melissa Levander
Pureblood
Swedish
Durmstrang student


I know what I want
and I’ll get what I need

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Carmen Gray-Winters
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and I will take what is mine

The skip in Carmen's step was unrivaled. She hummed under her breath, her morning date with Elias still weighing on her mind. She couldn't seem to get the smell of the woods out from her hair but, even then, she didn't mind. Carmen was reeling, still bloated with hope that Eli would keep his promise and meet up with her again later. It was weird, really. How did Carmen always land herself in these sorts of situations? Her heart was always so preoccupied searching for its perfect match that she never had a moment to herself, but she had convinced herself that Elias Yaxley was different, and so he would be.

Carmen beamed, glancing around at the many faces that were passing by. Carmen's mother was somewhere here with Poppy and where there were Grays, there tended to be Weasleys these days. Some bored part of Carmen was hoping that Amelia would be around to update Carmen on the gossip; Dave and Pandora? Dave and Sirius? And Remus even bothered to show his face yet? Carmen had found her morning so blissful and peaceful that she had forgotten that she was slightly miffed Remus had thought it prudent to throw water on everyone – including her – the night before.

Man, it was nice not to be hungover. Smiling, Carmen kept navigating through the crowd, taking care not to bump into anyone, although she could sense their eyes on her. She kept her chin close to her chest, dodging feet only when she spotted them. Carmen was still dreamily humming and wondering what kind of perfumes Eli liked when she felt herself collide into another body, erected like a wall in her path.

It would be easy to run into someone, really. Especially if that person was blind. “No way!” Carmen exclaimed.
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Auror | Training. Elementium.
Long is the way
And hard, that out of Hell

leads up to Light
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Antoine Belrose
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Antoine thought that he would be late to the match, after the morning with Hazel. Instead it seemed everyone was running late, or perhaps he hadn't slept as much as he had originally thought. Either way, he was at the second match, having left both Merida and Iso home to sleep.

It was ironic that Merida was the one from Russia, and yet Antoine supported the Russian team. At least more so then his own country's.

When another body collided with his own, Antoine turned back around anger boiling. The voice alerted him to his friend before his hazy sight could. "Carmen?" It seemed like ages since Antoine had actually seen Carmen.

Smiling Antoine stood there for a moment wondering who Carmen was here with. "You're here with your mother and Poppy then?" It dawned on Antoine then that without Merida and Iso he'd be sitting alone, inside of all the Russia fans.
I just wanna say, I remember conversations, before I gave up on me
and if it's any consulation I remember everything

And you can't take that, no you can't take that away .
You were the one who saved me, and you can't take that away.
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Carmen Gray-Winters
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and I will take what is mine

“I am!” said Carmen brightly, reaching forward to gently grab hold of Antoine's arm. He towered over her, even now, and she couldn't help but remember a time when the thought of Antoine Belrose made Carmen grind her teeth with anger. It felt as if so much time had passed since the two had competed in the Triwizard Tournament but, really, it had only been a few short years. Antoine's presence was both a comfort and a curse, but Carmen was determined not to let anything bother her on this beautiful day; perhaps a little bit of Poppy was rubbing off on her, after all.

“Where's Merida?!” exclaimed Carmen, looking around. “And... where's your dog?” Carmen's eyes widened. Was Antoine actually... looking at her? Seeing her? Had she been living under a rock? How did she not know that this was happening? She knew that Antoine was a relatively normal person who didn't have his life being whispered about constantly – there wasn't much salacious gossip about a brave transfer student with a stable, beautiful girlfriend – but Carmen at least thought her mother might have mentioned something as important as, you know, regained eyesight.

Carmen was floored. Her face was beaming in a way that she thought her muscles might actually explode if she smiled any wider. “I mean seriously, Antoine. I don't talk to you for a few months and this happens? What the hell happened to you?”
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Long is the way
And hard, that out of Hell

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Antoine Belrose
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Antoine actually laughed at Carmen. "Merida was sent to investigate that school that was attacked. As a result, she was exhausted and opted to sleep. Not that i can blame her." Antoine's thoughts went to Merida dozing off during Hazel's lecture.

Tango was at Antoine's house probably tearing something up. "You want the truth or a condensed story I tell everyone else?" It was crazy to see how overjoyed Carmen was. In fact Antoine couldn't remember a time she'd been this happy. He laughed, and then realized his sleeve of his shirt was covering his entire arm tattoo, the beautiful scene of a man riding a bike down an eighteenth century street. The tattoo covered his scar.

"I know, I've blossomed into an even better version of myself." Antoine's smile was the only indication that he might be joking.
I just wanna say, I remember conversations, before I gave up on me
and if it's any consulation I remember everything

And you can't take that, no you can't take that away .
You were the one who saved me, and you can't take that away.
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Carmen Gray-Winters
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and I will take what is mine

“Start from the beginning, and don't leave out any details,” said Carmen, her steely eyes returning in an instant. Immediately, her gaze softened, but she wasn't joking – she wanted every detail. Maybe she wanted to live vicariously through Antoine and Merida, imagining a life much different and much more honest than her own, or maybe she really did care about all the tiny, small details. “Here, why don't we get out of everyone's way? I was trying to find my mom or Jess – I mean, Mrs. Weasley, but who cares now? You've got a story to tell me. Let's find seats first, though.”

Gently, Carmen wondered if she should extend an arm for Antoine to take. Carmen was used to him being, you know, blind and she felt a pang of nostalgia when she remembered Tango, sweet-natured and obedient, although he had a buoyant personality all on his own. Grinning, Carmen began to walk towards the towering Stadium seating that spiraled upwards. The stands extended into the sky, dozens of rows already glittering with familiar faces.

She did notice, of course, that the crowds seemed thinner. Carmen frowned, wondering if it had anything to do with the school's attack; Carmen had noticed her mother more anxious than usual, and it hadn't been because of that extra glass of wine from last night. But that, of course, would be another conversation for another moment (and, frankly, Carmen was almost relieved that Hogwarts wasn't the only school that had its fair share of drama; the Italians could handle it).

Carmen looked up as they approached the stands, wondering where on earth to choose to sit. She motioned for Antoine to go first. “I've got to admit, I'm feeling a little strange without Tango. Tell me what you need, pick where we're sitting, and the second your ass hits a seat I want every detail.” Secretly, she was almost glad Antoine had such a distraction; she wasn't looking forward to the moment when he turned his gaze on her to ask how she was doing.

No one ever wanted an honest answer to that question.
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Auror | Training. Elementium.
Long is the way
And hard, that out of Hell

leads up to Light
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Antoine Belrose
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Antoine laughed. Boy was Carmen in for a surprise. "Legally, I am still blind. But after being completely blind, this is an improvement. " He shrugged, he could still use Tango, and often did in unfamiliar places, but with Iso here Antoine knew it wouldn't be wise to bring Tango too.

Antoine paused in the middle of a row, and cock ed his head to the side to listen. "Is this okay? You can hear the sound booth perfectly. " He carefully sat down.

Leaning back he readied himself for the story. He hadn't had to tell anyone about it. Merida kept other aurors from questioning him, and Beck found out through Billie. His parents hadn't asked any questions. He assumed they were just glad he was alive.

"So remember when I went to Beaxbaton's? The group of friends I had? They were pureblood, and I'm not. That is the beginning of this story." Antoine paused here. He didn't want to seem revenge filled or crazy. Even now he wouldn't go screeching about equality like Daisy. "People soon started believing I was their family, also assuming I was a pureblood. At the time I didn't see a reason to correct them, and so I left well enough alone." Antoine tapped his finger against his thigh trying to remember exactly what happened.

Blowing air out of he cheeks, Antoine took a deep breath and continued. "Fast forward to this year around Valentine's Day. Actually I think it was Valentine's. Anyways I was on my way to Merida's, it was after all a romantic holiday." He paused to glare at the people who walked through the aisle and happened to step on his toes. "As I was saying, I had planned to go to Merida's, when somebody attacked me from behind. It was a one hit wonder, the woman knew what she was doing. Knocked me out cold with the first hit. " Again Antoine paused, trying to get all the details right. While still excluding Billie from the story, that part was hers to tell and hers alone.

Antoine thought back to the actual event. Often times he would dream of it, and dream of very different outcomes. It had to be weird for Merida when Antoine started screaming for Billie to be left alone.

"So this woman has been planning and plotting her revenge against me since I was like eleven. She had found an empty building and set me up in there. Tied me to chair, just like in all the muggle movies. You following me here?" Antoine wondered if Carmen was expecting even half of the story to be like this.
I just wanna say, I remember conversations, before I gave up on me
and if it's any consulation I remember everything

And you can't take that, no you can't take that away .
You were the one who saved me, and you can't take that away.
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Carmen Gray-Winters
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and I will take what is mine

Carmen smiled, watching Antoine carefully although she still knew that he was capable of far more than many with sight. Still smiling, she wordlessly took the seat beside him, staring out into the crowd as she spoke. The teams were still preparing themselves for the game ahead, which would start in a few minutes. Overhead, Carmen could see bullets of color slicing through the air; her heart jerked slightly, heartbeat quickening, as she remembered that one of those dots was Alex DeWitt. She ballooned with something an awful lot like pride, but ripped herself away to pay attention to Antoine's story, which had just begun.

As he spoke, Carmen nodded. Belrose, though beautiful to untrained ears, didn't exactly yield much power; Carmen would have known. Her aunt, after all, was Antoine's Headmistress and, although he transferred, still reigned supreme at Beauxbatons.

Quickly, Carmen felt her smile fade. Somehow, she had anticipated a story of some kind of miracle; this was not what she had expected. Sneak attacks? A cold shiver ran up her spine, which she was determined to push away. The world's weight was not one she was meant to carry alone but, somehow, she found herself ruminating just the same. First students were being attached – like Antoine, and even Vera – and then Fortionde fell? Carmen tried not to show her anxiety, but she wrung her hands in her lap, anyway.

“Yes, I'm following you,” said Carmen, frowning now. “But my God, Antoine, did you go to the Ministry? This is... I mean, go on. Finish.”
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Long is the way
And hard, that out of Hell

leads up to Light
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Antoine Belrose
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Antoine let out a sound that was much like a chuckle, but without the humor. "Be prepared, this is the part of the story that resembles a miracle." Antoine ran a hand through his hair. "So this crazy ass woman starts ranting about how terrible of a person I am, and how everything I touch is ruined by my filthy hands. To which I mouthed something off. Pause the story. Now Carmen you can take this advice or leave it, but I'm about to give you some common sense advice, that if anyone had told me I would have ignored. Don't mouth off to crazy-ass bitches when you are tied to a chair. It won't end well for you." Antoine wiggled his nose and listened for a moment.

"in response to what I said, which I can't remember she pulls out these muggle medical devices from like 1920. I don't even know what they were meant to be used for, but she found some creative ways to fuck up my face." Antoine touched his cheek, and then his nose remembering the pain she'd caused. "About halfway through, she had these scooper things. I think they must have been used for eye surgery, because they cut right through all the scar tissue that had built up against my nerves, basically she did the surgery that no doctor's or healers would do because it was too risky. I don't think That she meant to give me back my sight. It was just the way it played out, she also happened to carve 'mudblood' into my arm, so she could practice her stitches." The last sentence was the only part of the story that any emotion was actually heard in Antoine's voice. Anger seeped through every word.

Antoine shrugged, "Merida found us, and honestly I'm glad the woman could apparate away fast. Because otherwise Merida would have killed her. Auror's were alerted, but it's not like a blind guy could give a physical description." Antoine shrugged, it was months ago. He was fine. Or rather he liked to pretend he was fine.

"I missed a week of school for it. Where were you?" Not that Antoine thought Carmen knew his every movement, but they had several classes together and he did think they were friends.
I just wanna say, I remember conversations, before I gave up on me
and if it's any consulation I remember everything

And you can't take that, no you can't take that away .
You were the one who saved me, and you can't take that away.
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Carmen Gray-Winters
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and I will take what is mine

“Hold on, let me process this for a second,” said Carmen lowly, and she covered her mouth with her hands for a moment. She found it difficult to glance Antoine's way, and it was even complicated further by the fact that now, not only could he sense her avoidance, but see it, even if his eyesight was still blurry. She sighed, watching the players practicing overhead; she imagined which one was Alex, and then turned back to Antoine, cheeks flushed. “You really didn't catch the woman who did it? I mean...”

Maybe Antoine was thinking what Carmen was, or at the very least, maybe Merida had speculated. Carmen knew her to be smart. “You never know how all of these things can be connected.” It was all she could bring herself to say. Something inside of her welled up – it wasn't quite fear, but something strange. Part of her wanted to kick Theodore Wickham and his pureblood fanatics right in the stomach. Part of her wanted to solve the world's mysteries. Part of her wanted to crawl back into the woods with Eli and never return again.

Carmen sighed. “I mean, if you're okay with everything...” Finally, she forced herself to look at Antoine. He seemed unscathed, which was even more unsettling. “There's certainly a silver lining there, right? That's amazing, Antoine. I mean it. I'm glad you're okay. You mean a lot to a lot of people, and me, too.” Carmen looked away, sighing. Whatever hope had been nestled inside of her had a way of deflating when she let reality back in.

Maybe she could shove it away again, and pretend that things were normal for a moment. They never would be, but Carmen wasn't above lying to herself. “Eh, I kind of went through some crap. I missed a lot of classes to tutor Poppy, but it does help having a mom that doubles as your Deputy Head. Puts in a few good words to Dumbledore for me, I guess. She's resigning, by the way.” Carmen shrugged. “It's a lot on all of us. We might just homeschool Poppy. I think I'll go back to finish with everyone else, but I don't really know what we're doing anymore. I kind of take things day by day. Don't you?” She laughed quietly and, for some reason, thought of Vera.

“How does Merida feel about everything going on? How do you feel, too?” asked Carmen. “I don't know about you, but it brings me back...” To the Tournament. The Quidditch Pitch in flames. The maze swallowing that little French girl whole; Shoshanna. That was her name. Shoshanna.
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Long is the way
And hard, that out of Hell

leads up to Light
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Antoine Belrose
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Antoine shook his head. "No. She's still out there, but I don't think she'll bother me, personally, again." Bad things happen in threes. That's what they say, the first thing was Iso's kidnapping, the second was Antoine's, and third would be Gaspard's death. If Antoine could hold himself together, things would be okay.

"You mean Italy ' s school and my attacking? No, I really think the woman was just crazy. Highly intellegent, and could plan things out well. But not well enough to take out a school."

Antoine felt Carmen's eyes on him. Slowly he rolled his sleeve to reveal his new work of art. In the street the scar was just barely visable. "The only scar I couldn't cover with magic I covered with ink. You know how I like to keep up appearances." Antoine had a glamor on nearly every inch of his skin. It was amazing that people could even recognize him.

Antoine nodded it made sense. What Carmen's family had been through would be enough to put strain on anyone, let alone the person that actually had to deal with Hogwarts' mess. "I'm glad you are coming back." It was the closest thing to an actual compliment Antoine had given Carmen.

This time Antoine laughed. Carmen didn't realize that Antoine and Merida didn't talk about emotions or the future. They pushed those things aside and let them fester, and then blowup...which led to making up. "Sorry I shouldn't laugh." Antoine chuckled and then sighed. "I have a cousin she's just a little older then Poppy would have been. Anyway, she was kidnapped due to a blood feud. Eventually we found her. She used to love magic, any and all types, she'd be happy just watching me practice my spells for hours on end.

After the kidnapping, she became terrorized by even the thought of magic. Merida and I thought that bringing her here would help ease her into realizing that not all magic is bad. Except, Daisy and her Vox followers ruined that.

I guess what I'm trying to say is, it doesn't scare me the way the tournament did. It pisses me off. I should not have to come to a God Damn sporting event and deal with blood status problems. Nor should I have to worry that when I'm walking down the street I'll be attacked. I'm not upset by what our community is doing or not doing. I'm outraged."
Antoine's voice held an intensity that hadn't been heard in a long time. He could be attacked, brutally beaten, nearly killed, but messing with Antoine's family was the surest way to piss him off.

I just wanna say, I remember conversations, before I gave up on me
and if it's any consulation I remember everything

And you can't take that, no you can't take that away .
You were the one who saved me, and you can't take that away.
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Carmen Gray-Winters
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and I will take what is mine

Carmen nodded, feeling her throat tighten up. She wasn't sure what to say in response to Antoine's anger, but it made her question why she wasn't angrier, either. It was at that moment that Carmen spotted her familiar cherubic face, porcelain skin flushed in a way that made her seem younger than she actually was – or maybe that was just the layers of makeup that dear, old pal Rita Skeeter was sweating beneath. Even from a short distance, Carmen could recognize her clearly from her wiry plume of blonde curls, coiffed to perfection, to the notebook and KwikQuill zooming away on her lap. Carmen glanced at Antoine; she knew she should have felt angrier. More empowered. Something was happening all around them, and all Carmen could do was feel helpless against it.

Almost helpless. Carmen watched through cold, narrowed eyes as Rita Skeeter stood, straightened her prim skirt, and edged closer to Antoine and Carmen. Oh, it must have been the perfect photo op: two former Triwizard Tournament tributes, enjoying a fun day off together. They were survivors amidst casualties; look how well they were getting on! They harbored no scars, no ill feelings! The world was fine, spinning on its axis as it always was!

“You're right for feeling that way, Antoine,” said Carmen sharply, and then her eyes met Rita's in a moment of clarity. Rita beamed, waved a jeweled hand, and began to navigate her way to Antoine and Carmen's seats. “Incoming. I have an idea, if you'll go along with me.” For once, Carmen felt herself make a concrete decision on her own; her grin hardened into a calculated smirk. “If you can't beat them...”

Rita's greeting was an explosion of salutations and perfume; Carmen wrinkled her nose as Rita leaned forward, not bothering to feign a polite handshake or air-kiss. Instead, Rita plopped herself down onto the empty seat beside Carmen, straightening her jade skirt as she sat. Her neck was being devoured by a purple top that stretched well above her neck; she looked like an overzealous peacock, and her eyes were glistening with excitement through her glasses. “Ah, children! What a day! Such a pleasure to run into you both! Yes, it's Carmen – the Raven, isn't it? I'll bet you haven't heard that in a while, unless you've been reading my columns...” Her sing-song voice made Carmen's temples throb, and Rita waved one jeweled finger in the air as her quill scribbled down notes.

“And... Belrose! The Beauxbatons Beauty had her beast and it was you, wasn't it? How quaint. Yes, yes. You're enjoying the Tournament, are you?”

Carmen's smirk widened, and she glanced at Antoine. “Are we, Antoine?”
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Antoine Belrose
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Antoine was completely confused by what Carmen was talking about until Rita sat down. The amount of hatred Antoine felt towards this woman was unreal. It was Rita who snapped pictures of Merida by Antoine's bed as he was recuperating after the last task.

Antoine's trademark smirk sat on his lips as Rita went through the fake greetings. "Rita how nice to see you--oops I misspoke didn't I?" Under a layer of niceness there was sarcasm.

Carmen and Rita were both expecting an answer. Rita thought she'd walked in on some couple-no doubt. "You know Rita I was having the time of my life, until all hell broke loose after the first match. It's a shame such a terrible way to end the day. But there's always a brighter day ahead. Which was today, until I learned that there was an attack on the Italian students' school. My heart and prayers go out to them, may they be able to have a safe and productive school year." Antoine looked to Carmen, waiting to see what she had in mind. Antoine's words had been soft, filled with regret, and what seemed to be sympathy. His features showed his sadness, and regret for what had happened.

Honestly Antoine was glad he made a living by composing his face the way the photographer said. It made things like this that much easier.
I just wanna say, I remember conversations, before I gave up on me
and if it's any consulation I remember everything

And you can't take that, no you can't take that away .
You were the one who saved me, and you can't take that away.
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Carmen Gray-Winters
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and I will take what is mine

Watching Antoine morph into someone as diplomatic as he was enthralled Carmen, and she remembered the boy that she had first met; he was cocky, the bane of her existence and, frankly, perfect for the camera. Carmen remembered feeling insecure beside him, straightening taller so that the camera might be distracted from Antoine's impeccable jawline to focus on her waves of blonde hair. Now, of course, Carmen only found herself smiling. This time, they were playing for the same team, and it was one that Rita Skeeter would know all about.

Her smile shifted slightly, almost as if she had forgotten that the children she once knew were now adults. The Tournament had seen fit to take care of that for them, hadn't it? Rita chuckled lowly, her quill scratching and speeding on its page, as if tip was fed not by ink, but by tension. “Productive school year? Yes, yes, that's quite kind of you, Belrose. But I mean – the World Cup. Brazil was disqualified for using illegal drugs, don't you have an opinion on that? You two are quite the athletes yourselves, aren't you?”

Carmen hardly flinched. “I do believe there are more pressing matters at stake today, in our society,” said Carmen's voice, dangerous and low. “This is no longer an issue of entertainment, but of public safety. It is reminiscent of another time that Antoine and I remember quite clearly, as I'm sure you do, Rita.”

Rita's cold eyes lifted, searching Carmen's impenetrable gaze. “I assure you, Aurors are in every possible position here ensuring the safety of players and guests alike. But children will be children. A silly little protest with red scarves didn't do any harm, did it?” Rita's smile grew eerie and cold, as if ghosts were resting in the hollows of her cheeks. Carmen met her eyes, and in a moment, her instinct jumped as if electrocuted. She knows. Rita Skeeter knows that Vera is dead, and she's not saying it. She's not reporting it. She... doesn't... care.

Karissa's body. Emma saw it. She couldn't dare stand to look down at the red locks, orange and blonde twisted in a light bun now covered in ash. She appeared to be sleeping; Emma rushed forward, shoving others out of her way in order to feel for a pulse. "No, no, Karissa NO!"

Carmen swallowed, hard. “People are dying, Ms. Skeeter. I suggest you and your Prophet consider your options. These glamorous articles on a printed pretty new QuillJet system will only last you so long.”

For some strange reason, Carmen expected Rita to look flustered, forgetting that the woman was colder than a statue and calmer than the eye of a storm amidst chaos. Rita nearly laughed, the sound joyless, and stood up. “Interesting soundbytes, then. I'm so glad to see you two together. Really, the Cup is all about unity, isn't it?” Carmen glared, and Rita gave a small hmph and a flashing smile before she tucked her quill into her enormous fluff of blonde hair. Primly, she nodded and excused herself, heels clacking hard on the metal flooring of the stadium. From there, she disappeared into the crowd of people, who all turned to greet her with familiarity. Carmen huffed.

“Unbelievable,” she muttered, and from within her bag, she unearthed a sheet from her moleskin. She dug through her bag for a quill of her own, and began scribbling quickly, afraid to lose her train of thought. Carmen was determined to do something... but what, she didn't know. She only knew one person and his friends – one family, rather – that she could trust.

Dave, Sirius, James, Remus, and Amelia – I know you're probably preoccupied with everything that's been happening, but I think it's about time someone bring up the fact that A) people are dying, B) murders are going unsolved, C) schools are being “blewed up” and no one seems particularly bothered by it? Not sure what we can do, but it's a whole lot better than doing absolutely nothing. I'm sending this with Molly. I think I see her bouncing around in the stands. She's like a human Snitch, isn't she?

Dave – hope you're feeling better about the, you know.

Remus – hope you're REALLY feeling better about the, you know.

Everyone else – mail me back! We can't be sitting around and doing nothing!

xoxo - Carmen


With a sigh, Carmen folded the tiny slip of parchment into a small square, and decorated the front with what she tried to make out as a squiggly Gryffindor lion. It came out topheavy and a little lop-sided, but she knew that the sentiment, at least, would have to make one of them laugh. “Hey, excuse me for a minute, Antoine?”

Carmen stood up carefully, skipping down the stairs by twos to reach Molly Weasley before the girl set off in the other direction like a crimson bullet. Her hair, a bright red flecked by streaks of gold, danced around her as she hopped from foot to foot, wildly pointing to the skies and naming players. “OY! FINNIGAN! IRELAND'S GONNA ROCK THIS ONE, AIN'T IT?!” she said, her voice piercing for a girl of her tiny stature. Desperately, Carmen reached forward and grabbed hold of Molly's shoulder before she could dart off after friends.

“Molly!” Carmen called for her, and Molly spun on her heel, looking defensive. “I have something for you. Do you think that you could give it to your cousin, or any of her friends? Really, whichever is good, as long as it gets to someone. And don't read it.”

Molly and Carmen stared at each other for a moment, their glares hardened.

“I will know if you have read it. I will dock so many points from Gryffindor on our first day back that you will be excommunicated and sent to work in the kitchens as a house elf.”

“I like food,” retorted Molly, snatching the parchment from Carmen's hand. “Don't you know who I am?”

Immediately, Molly darted off. “I'M NOT KIDDING, MOLLY!” yelled Carmen at her retreating back, and then she had no choice but to smile. She trudged back up the stairs and regained her seat beside Antoine.

“I think that Dave and his friends should know about what Rita's up to,” she said, explaining her absence. “Somehow, I don't buy that everything's as safe as we're all pretending it is. It's impossible to buy that after...” The Tournament. My cousin. My sister. Antoine. Teddy. Vera. Tom. Rachel. It was impossible to believe that they were safe when every instinct was screaming that they were not; not by a long shot.
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Antoine blinked once at Rita. Was he supposed to say that Brazil getting kicked out was a tragedy? No, what was a tragedy, was the fact that, the media cared more about that, than the actual doom that loomed over everyone's heads.

Before Rita could leave Antoine cast a simple curse that force her to tell the truth for the next 48 hours. There was no way he was risking his words getting twisted around.

"Carmen I swear to God if you dock us that many points I will personally paint the Ravenclaw Tower the most ugly shade of red I can find. If Gryffindor is that far behind, then my goal is to make sure we loose the House cup with style." And Antoine's competitive side showed through the cracks of his life.

"What was the final straw for you to realize? " Antoine looked at Carmen for a long moment. She wasn't a stupid girl, nor naive. Was she that lost in her own world? A world where children's lives didn't matter; if it was for entertainment. A world where her sister was forced to grow up overnight? How had Carmen not realized that nothing here was safe? Perhaps she was more optimistic than Antoine.

"So Carmen, what exactly is the plan? I mean you alerted the media, and have rallied the troops. There has to be a plan, and I want in." Antoine gave Carmen a half grin before turning his attention back to the quidditch pitch.
I just wanna say, I remember conversations, before I gave up on me
and if it's any consulation I remember everything

And you can't take that, no you can't take that away .
You were the one who saved me, and you can't take that away.
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Carmen Gray-Winters
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and I will take what is mine

What was the final straw? Carmen thought back on her life and wondered how she could have lucked out having such a cruel narrator. She shrugged her shoulders, releasing a hesitant sigh. She should have lost hope years ago, but a part of Carmen remained so dreamy that she supposed she had spent twice as long fantasizing about how things were perfectly fine. She felt aggravated with herself then; how could she have been so foolish? How could she have allowed the fierce persona of the Raven so slip so quickly form her shoulders, as if that girl had been nothing more than a costume? Perhaps she was, but Carmen knew better than that. She was still there, bold beneath Carmen's sweet exterior. She was just waiting for the right moment to resurface.

The time was now. Carmen leaned back, smiling. “Rallied the troops? I suppose. They don't call them Marauders for nothing. It's just a matter of...” Could they really do anything? People were dying, finding their eyes gauged out with scoopers and Carmen was still sitting there, struggling against the sensation of drowning beneath waters too deep for her to tread. She was determined to keep her head afloat, but she had no idea where to even begin.

Gentle, like a whisper, something made Carmen think of her father. She felt a sting of nostalgia and pain, and that was all that she needed to cement her in reality. Carmen Gray-Winters lived in a world where Grant Winters had lost his life, Aurors had searched the crime scene, and they had revealed no answers. The world was not only failing Carmen, but her peers. The world was failing itself, and all they had were headstones to prove it and mark each fallen dream.

“Well, I don't have a plan just yet,” admitted Carmen. “Talking to Rita Skeeter was the first part, finding people like you is the second. Now, we wait.” Carmen winced against the sun as she looked upwards. “Look. There's Alex up there. You remember him, right?” Durmstrang Tribute to Falmouth Falcon. Carmen smiled sadly.

“You think any of this makes a difference?” she asked honestly.
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