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TWENTY FIVE.
THE REDHEAD sat nervously biting her nails amongst the stands of the Quidditch pitch. Fred and George were sat beside her; anomalies of red and gold amidst a sea of blue and bronze. Each House had gathered in congregated groups, so Arabella was surprised to see that her Gryffindor friends had joined her instead – not that she minded, of course. In fact, she had missed the twins' company so much that she savoured every moment with them.
Her mind was busy, however. It was racing, scattered, and consumed with what ifs. What if the maze is enchanted with a mind of its own, like the book had said? What if the creatures are dangerous, and they kill someone? What if the rumours about Voldemort's return are true?
Clearly Bella could not be sure of the cause of such heightened anxiety, but there was something in her intelligent brain that told her it was justified. That it wasn't just her being unreasonable. That she had a right to be worried, because something could happen.
"Do you think he'll be okay?" She asked the twins anxiously.
Fred cracked a smile. "I was wondering when you were going to talk. I can see what you're thinking in your face. You're scared to bloody death, aren't you?"
"Of course I am, Fred. My boyfriend is in the Triwizard Tournament. It's the final task, so it's guaranteed to be challenging and, um, probably dangerous. And the rumours about Voldemort returning with the possibility of dark magic being involved in the task . . . I don't know, it just unnerves me. I don't want anyone to get hurt, let alone Viktor."
George flashed Bella a sympathetic grin, with his hand gently placed on her forearm as comfort. "D'you really think that Dumbledore would get Death Eaters to attack the Champions or something? It's just a rumour, Bella. I doubt anything will happen, and if it does, I don't think You-Know-Who would pick a maze as his way of targeting Harry."
She shrugged. "Yeah, I guess so."
The girl could feel a small sliver of relief creeping into her system, but there was still an overwhelming sensation of worry in her stomach. No matter how much she had tried to talk herself out of it, the negative thoughts persistently lingered in her mind and she just could not diminish them. Stuck like a bee to honey. A broken record on a gramophone.
Maybe George was right, but there was something inside Arabella that just felt wrong.
This feeling only escalated when Dumbledore emerged from under the stands, with all four Champions following behind. The crowd erupted with cheers, students and Professors alike, whom were watching with supportive smiles and excited eyes. Bella was not smiling, nor was she excited. She was submerged in nerves.
