ça va?

  As soon as the first task had been announced, Maéva had begun her training; and while it hadn’t been difficult to force herself into a routine of swimming at dawn and spell searching at dusk, it had grown harder and harder to deal with anticipation. It was a feeling Maéva was estranged to – to wish for something never to come; for time to simply stop. It was a wishful thinking she did not associate with broom racing at all.

  The feeling became stronger that morning as the mass of water that was the lake grew bigger before her eyes. The four champions were approaching the edge of the lake and, just below the surface of the water, a stranger came into view. It was a girl. She shivered mildly in her bathing suit but her blue eyes she held still, fixed on Maéva’s.

  "Oh, it's cold!” Violette had bravely dipped her toe in the water, making Maéva’s reflection waver. “Do you think they'll take points off if I transfigure a wetsuit?"

  "No need," Maéva assured, looking away from the water. With a well-practiced wave of her wand she turned their bodies temperature to a steady thirty-six degrees. "This particular one has come in hand several times when I was racing."

  Violette sighed in relief, yet her attention had gone elsewhere. She was looking up at the Headmasters. All eight of them had taken their seats at the judges table. "I think they're about to start the countdown."

  Violette was right. Headmistress Mercier was casting the Sonorus spell and explaining the task to all who had missed the first briefing - get in the lake, find the Occamy egg and bring the keyring inside it. Couldn’t be more straightforward than that.

  “So, champions, if you’re ready… Three… Two… One…”.

  Maéva could barely recall the hour that followed, remembering only fragments of it.

  When the canon had sounded several teams had jumped straight into the water, but the Beauxbatons stayed ashore. The pack of blondes was delayed by the need to cast the Scuba-Diving spell that Jean-Marie had trained them on. It was a complicated Transfiguration spell with a very ugly ending result, yet, if well done, it allowed them not only to breathe and speak underwater but also to endure the high pressure one might find at an Occamy’s underwater hideout.

  Diving in was the real test that morning. With the weight of their metallic helmet head forcing them into the deepest parts of the lake, Maéva could only hope that she’d correctly cast the Scuba-Diving spell, or Beauxbatons could kiss one of their champions goodbye. Fortunately, danger lurked in every corner, distracting her from the haunting thoughts.

  The first set of creatures they found were the Grindylows. With them, the first evidence of other champions. Maéva wanted to see what strategies they had used to breathe underwater, but there was no time. The small horned creatures were already coming for the French.

  “Arresto momentum”, Maéva shouted inside her diving helmet, instinctively.

  It was a show of lights. The four of them all cast different spells with no coordination whatsoever. Sparks of green, violet and yellow hit the green devils spot on. Still, with such little team work the Beauxbatons were lucky to put the Grindylows behind their backs.

  The next fragment of memory that Maéva had was the mermaid. She could tell they had been set up to find it – or it to find them. There would be no way to get to the egg without getting through this obstacle first. The realisation of it made them hesitate.

  “She doesn’t look like she wants to fight us.” Violette pointed out. “Maybe we can just… politely ask her to move aside?”

  Maéva almost smiled at her roommate’s persistent optimism, but she knew Violette didn’t really think that. No, they all knew it – the mermaid was giving them a chance; a chance to turn back and throw the towel. She glanced at Sabine instead. “How do we go about this?”

  Sabine looked almost surprised to be sought after for guidance, but Maéva had treated each of her teammates as a racing opponent. She had learnt their strengths and discovered their weaknesses. She trusted Sabine to know her creatures as well as she knew her broomstick. Better even.

  “Well, I haven’t done that much research on merpeople,” Sabine started, hesitantly. “But a few stun spells combined are strong enough to put out a dragon…”

  Said and done – they had one shot and they’d nailed it. Once again, Maéva tried not to dwell too long on what would have happened if four spells hadn’t been enough; or if they hadn’t been able to time them perfectly; but sooner than not, Sabine was pointing out a hidden cavern. The Occamy’s hideout.

  “It’s a very protective creature,” Sabine was explaining, having just told them about the Occamy’s shapeshifting abilities. “I’m not even sure it’s possible to get to its eggs. One mistake and its body fills up the cavern, crushing everything in its wake.” Crushing us.

  “What about the eggs?” Violette inquired. “Won’t it crush them?”

  Sabine shook her head. “The eggs are the only thing that matter to it – it’ll adjust to them."

  “Then we bring an egg with us.” It was Jean-Marie who had spoken. There was clearly a plan forming in their mind already, as they searched around. After a few moments, Jean came back with a clam about as big as their head and a small rock that could easily fit into it. They then pulled their wand out and started transfiguring the rock into a large, silver egg. Finally, they pushed the clam and the egg into Sabine’s hands.

  Maéva couldn’t quite explain what happened next. She remembered Jean and Sabine didn’t exchange any words before Sabine nodded and entered the Occamy cavern. She remembered somehow knowing that she wasn’t supposed to follow Sabine inside, even if her instincts screamed the exact opposite. And she remembered, after what seemed liked long waiting hours, Sabine’s triumphant look as she came back out holding a closed shell and a keyring.

  “What about the nest?” Jean-Marie wondered, as the Beauxbatons champions started swimming back to the shore. “I have trouble imagining you destroyed it.”

  “I used a Revealing spell to find our egg and left the rest intact.” Sabine told them. “I’m just bringing this thing back with me because I sure don’t want to be there when they set it free again.”

  Instead of joining in on the chatter, the blonde had been playing with the food on her plate. It had started to occur to Maéva that this Triwizard Tournament might not be like one of her races after all. When she’d first signed up she’d thought how hard could it be? She was, after all, a worldwide famous racer – well as famous as illegal goes. But now; now she realised how absurdly unprepared she was. Every spell, every feint that Maéva had ever used on her races had been carefully studied and practiced for. She was used to knowing her opponents, her strengths and her weaknesses. Of this tournament she knew nothing, no one.

  The quietness around Maéva broke her train of thought. It was as if with every passing minute the stillness intensified. A silent scream of eagerness. A quick glance at her watch told the girl that she wouldn’t have to put up with it much longer, though. Only forty-eight seconds to go.

  Forty-seven.

  Forty-six.

  She felt her stomach turn when the hand of her watch aligned with the number eight. At the same time, the flames on the Goblet of fire - which had been growing brighter and brighter by the minute - spit out a single piece of paper. The selection of the Champions had begun.

  To Maéva, the feeling was as if the Great Hall had been filled with water. Her breath didn’t come easily; her heart beat fast; and the names that professor Mercier called out sounded oddly distant. She knew that there were students proudly standing - she could watch them smile and wave as they were acknowledged champions. Others, like Maéva, seemed to be questioning their life-changing decision.

  A girl stood beside her, bumping her shoulder – another champion. Maéva wasn’t sure whether it had been a Beauxbatons or a Ravenclaw student, but it didn’t matter. The name that came then erased everything else from importance.

  “Maéva Roux, from Beauxbatons.”

  Professor Mercier glanced intently at the fleck of blonde heads that were the French. For a split second, Maéva thought of pretending that she had misheard the professor or even on insisting that that wasn’t her name. Fortunately, she realised how ridiculous an idea it was before too long a time had passed.

  Much slower than the girl that had bumped her arm, Maéva got to her feet. The Hall burst into applause as it had done for the previous champions. The sound transported her a few years into the past, where only a single person was clapping. It was Luna, her younger sister.

  Maéva had been sneaking back into their shared bedroom at the first light of dawn. She had done it; she had competed in her first race – La Route Parisien. She remembered her heart beat a lot faster that night than it did then in the Great Hall.

  “So? How was it?” Luna had jumped right out of her bed in excitement and Maéva could tell that her little sister had had just as much sleep as she did. Fortunately, she was quiet enough not to wake their Red Tibetan – only a puppy at the time.

  “C’était incroyable!” Maéva told her in a hushed voice. “There were charms and curses flying everywhere and everyone was so fast. And they could do the most ama- What?”

  Luna had been staring at her with the smuggest grin on her face. She managed it so well even at that young age.

  “Just… don’t stop.” She had said. “Don’t stop until you’re the best. You know me, I’m great at theory and spells but I could never do anything like that. I’m not brave enough.”

  “Of course you are!” Yet Luna kept speaking over her.

  “But you can be a winner. Promise me you’ll be a winner for both of us.”

  It was strange that as Maéva walked past the professors table, with the soles of her shoes echoing in the stoned floor, all that came to her mind was some silly promise her twelve-year-old self had made.

  Luna hadn’t said anything when Maéva had applied for the tournament – she’d grown to hide her sentimental side – but somehow it had been present in her goodbyes that morning. Somehow she had invoked that very promise, reminding her the Tournament was it. Her chance to win for both of them. And it was so that when Maéva opened the door at the end of the Hall she did it with her back straight and her chin held high.