Chapter Text
The Beauxbatons arrived on Tuesday, which Adrien guessed was fitting considering that the Triwizard Tournament was officially starting on Friday.
“Still don’t know what the fuck that is,” Marinette hissed, standing next to him, clapping as the blue-clad students paraded into the Great Hall.
“I forget sometimes that you’re a muggle-born, you know. You’re just so talented at magic, and such a natural, and so一”
Marinette discreetly stepped on his foot, eliciting a yelp from him as she dropped her hands. “Flattery will get you nowhere, Agreste.”
Adrien opened his mouth to retaliate, but a hush fell over the students, and so he turned his head to look at the staff table. The podium had been cleared, and a large, wooden box was placed behind the eagle stand. Adrien did his best to stifle his snicker as Headmaster Damocles climbed on top of it to look at all the students, but Alya Césaire’s pointed glare told him he had failed.
“Students of Beauxbaton,” Headmaster Damocles announced, his voice magically amplified to reach every corner of the Great Hall, “please, take a seat at the Ravenclaw table.”
In response, the Ravenclaw prefects raised their hands, directing the Beauxbaton students to take seats amongst the students.
Adrien saw Nino Lahiffe very awkwardly smile at the girl who had sat next to him and absolutely failed to contain his laugh. This resulted in a kick under the table from Alya.
“I hope you all will treat our guests well,” the headmaster continued. “For now, tuck in!”
The queue was given, and all the students sat down as food appeared on the platters.
“Aren’t you going to sit at the Slytherin table, Marinette?” Alya asked, her mouth partially stuffed with bread. “Not that I’m not enjoying your company, it’s just that this is the fourth time this week you’ve sat at the Gryffindor table.”
“I will,” Marinette replied, forking a piece of chicken. “Once somebody will get around to finishing their half of our potions assignment.”
Adrien reeled away from her, lifting both his hands up in a defensive gesture. “I’m getting to it!”
“Not fast enough you’re not!” she glared at him. “Do you want Professor Mendeleiev to fail us?”
“God no!” Adrien shoveled an entire potato in his mouth, somehow swallowing it without choking. He internally thanked his non-existing gag reflex. “I’ve just been a little busy with something.”
Marinette narrowed her eyes at him. “With what?”
Adrien opened his mouth but was cut off for the second time that day as Headmaster Damocles cleared his throat, effectively silencing everybody.
“Later,” he hissed to Marinette.
“As you all know,” the Headmaster began, “the Triwizard Tournament begins on Friday. What you all may not know is what the Triwizard Tournament is about.”
He cleared his throat again. “The Triwizard Tournament is a magical competition generally held amongst the three major wizarding schools of Europe, and I say generally because this year, alongside Beauxbaton and Durmstrang, we welcome Mahoutokoro School of Magic amongst our ranks.”
Murmurs broke across the hall. “Competition?” Marinette whispered behind Adrien.
“In this contest, one champion above the age of seventeen is chosen to represent each school, though in this case, we’ve changed the age limit to sixteen,” the headmaster continued. “These champions participate in three tasks designed by the teachers and earn points. After the third task, all the points are tallied, and the school with the highest amount wins. The winning champion receives a cup, a thousand Galleons, and eternal glory.”
Headmaster Damocles smiled kindly. “As some of you may know, the Triwizard Tournament was discontinued due to the high death toll. But no worries! We have it under control. And as the night draws close, I wish you all a goodnight.”
“ I wish you all goodnight , my ass,” Marinette fumed. “How dare he just一just drop this mega death star on our plates and go goodnight?! ”
“I understood that reference,” Adrien muttered as he followed his fuming best friend through the Library. “Why are you so angry about this?”
“ Because .” she turned to him so abruptly that he almost smacked into her. “There is a death toll , Adrien. A death toll of a bunch of seventeen-year-olds, which will now expand to include people of sixteen. How can they continue it just like that?!”
“Well,” Adrien rubbed the back of his head. “They did say they had it under control.”
“Which basically means, we’re letting you do whatever the fuck and we’ll only intervene at the last second .”
“Okay, yes, that is basically what they mean, but...can you just listen to me?”
Marinette turned back to look at Adrien. “What?”
“Not here.” He grabbed her wrist and pulled her into a shaded alcove, away from the students and any potential eavesdroppers. “I’m planning on entering my name for the Triwizard Tournament.”
She stared at him for a good minute. “You want to enter your name for the Triwizard Tournament?”
“Yes.”
“The one which has a fucking death toll?”
“Yes.”
Marinette squinted her eyes at him. “Do you have a death wish?”
“I mean, who doesn't一”
“Are you feeling alright? Should I take you to Madam Lenoir? How many fingers am I holding?”
“ Three , and一” Adrien tugged her hand down. “I am alright, okay? I’m doing this of my own accord, because I want to. And the thousand Galleons prize is pretty sick too.”
“Seriously? You’re only doing this for the thousand Galleons? It’s not like you’re not rich, Adrien. Is this about your dad?”
Adrien stayed silent.
“Adrien?”
He looked away.
Marinette sighed, tipping her head back to rest against the shelf behind her. “Adrien, you need to give up on him.”
“I know! I know, it’s just…” he shrugged his shoulders helplessly. “I just, I dunno, I want him to notice? See me? The Triwizard Tournament’s a big deal. There’s no way he wouldn’t hear about it.”
“Look, I have to be straight. Your dad’s a piece of shit.” Marinette fixed Adrien with a sharp stare. “He all but disowned you when the Sorting Hat put you in Gryffindor. I mean, what kind of parent just refuses to interact with their own kid just because they got into a house that’s not Slytherin? Who does that?”
“Pureblood parents,” Adrien muttered.
“Pureblood parents,” Marinette agreed. “My parents were pretty supportive when I got sorted into Slytherin, even though they had no clue what it was. Ignorance is bliss, I guess.”
“If only we could switch places.”
“Adrien, no.”
“Alright, alright,” he said, holding his hands up in a placative gesture. “Moving on from unrealistic standards set by parents, will you help me prepare for the Triwizard Tournament?”
“You speak as if you know you’ll be selected.”
“Dunno. Best be prepared, am I right?”
The smile Adrien shot Marinette was met with a grim face.
“I am not okay with this.”
“I understood that reference, and also, you don’t have a choice. I have something called best friend insurance, and I’m using it. Now come on. Let’s make sure that Professor Mendeleiev doesn’t fail my ass.”
The next day, on Wednesday, Adrien bridle-carried a very reluctant Marinette into the Great Hall.
“Agreste, if you do not put me down within the next three seconds, I will claw your eyes out.”
“Not recommended. I kind of need them to win this thing.” Nevertheless, Adrien put her down. Probably in the best interests of his life.
The Great Hall had gone through a transformation that no longer made it look like the Great Hall Adrien had known in his six years as a Hogwarts student. For one, it was completely devoid of all its benches and tables, leaving it bare and empty to look at. Well, not so empty, if you took notice of the massive-ass, flaming goblet standing in the middle of the hall, glowing blue with an equally glowy-looking line surrounding it.
“Damn that’s huge,” Marinette whistled.
“Yeah. Probably to keep those 5’1 and below away.”
Adrien received an elbow to his stomach for that.
“You sure about this?” Marinette asked, simultaneously rolling her shoulders and glancing at him.
“Yup,” Adrien said, nodding, as he took a step forward.
“And you accept the fact that you might die in this crazy death game?”
“Yup.” Another step forward.
“Last chance: you can’t back out after this.” Marinette’s eyes flickered between Adrien and the goblet, the only indication of her nervousness. “Want to take it?”
“Nope.” One more step forward, and Adrien had stepped past the glowing line surrounding the goblet.
It didn’t blast him out immediately, so that was a good sign. Maybe.
Before he could chicken out, and by extension, take Marinette’s offer, Adrien rose up and dropped the slip of paper that had his name written on it into the mouth of the cup.
For a second, nothing happened, before the flames surrounding the cup darkened in color and rose up slightly, eventually settling down again.
He felt more than heard Marinette’s sigh as he stepped out of the ring. “What? You thought it was going to blast my name right back out?”
Marinette shrugged. “Kinda. I wish it did. Then you wouldn’t have a chance to participate.”
“Sad but nah.” Adrien shot her a smirk. “I’m definitely going to be chosen.”
Marinette did not reply. She shot him an ultra-angry death glare instead.
.
.
.
Durmstrang and Mahoutokoro had arrived at some point in the night, Marinette observed, as students in red cloaks and varying shades of kimonos mingled with Hogwarts black and Beauxbaton blue.
“That one’s from Durmstrang,” Adrien whispered as a tall, heavily built student stepped through the line. The flames burned just like they did with Adrien as he dropped his own name inside and stepped out. “See his coat? It’s built for Bulgarian winters.”
“Except we’re not in Bulgaria,” Marinette muttered, as yet another Durmstrang student stepped forward, this time female, to put her name in. “Why are they still wearing it?”
“Mandatory uniform? Who knows.”
“Who’s she?” Marinette nodded towards a girl with deep golden robes who had just entered the hall.
“That there would be Tsurugi Kagami,” Adrien said, watching as said girl went up to deposit her own name in. “Mahoutokoro. Her mom’s friends with Father. She’s really good with magic.” He leaned a little further into the alcove that both of them had found, standing next to it and picking apart the crowd. “Ya know, she’ll probably get chosen. She’s really good with magic.
“So, we’ve tallied down a potential competitor.” His best friend huffed. “Who from Durmstrang do you think will be chosen?”
“Hm, well一 oh, shit, hide . ”
Marinette started as Adrien grabbed her arm and pulled her a little way further than where they had been standing, positioning them at an angle that would let them see the face of the person who was walking towards the goblet. “ You know who that is? ”
“Uh…” she eyed the Durmstrang student who was parading towards the goblet, surrounded by a mini entourage of people. “Noooo?”
“ It’s Luka Couffaine! ” Adrien hissed. “He’s like, a legend in Quidditch. How have you not heard of him?!”
“You never mentioned him before,” Marinette defended herself. “Besides, I’m too busy focusing on my own Quidditch playing than somebody else’s.”
“He’s also a Seeker, ya know? Bulgarian national team. That’s the guy who caught the snitch and made Bulgaria win the Quidditch Cup last year. He’s big news.” Adrien starred as Couffaine dropped his name in the goblet. “He’s totally gonna get chosen. Holy shit, Marinette, how the fuck am I going to win this?”
Marinette glanced at him with a shocked look. “Weren’t you saying that you were going to win?”
“Yeah, but that’s Luka Couffaine! How do I even begin to explain Luka Couffaine?! He’s flawless! He owns three Firebolts! His hair is ensured for ten-thousand Galleons ! He does broom commercials in Africa ! His favorite movie is Sixth Sense! He once met Jagged Stone and jammed with him!”
“Okay, first of,” Marinette frowned. “How much of that is actually true?”
“Some,” Adrien admitted immediately. “I wasn’t lying about the Firebolts or Jagged Stone though.”
“And the commercials? The flawlessness? The hair? ”
“He is flawless though,” he argued. “And if I were a hair insurer or whatever they’re called, I’d totally ensure him.”
“You’re weird.”
“I’ve been told.”
He turned to her. “Marinette, honestly, I have to win. There are no two choices about it. If Luka gets chosen, and he probably will, I need to be able to beat him. Please mentor me.”
Marinette sighed. “You did mention best friend privilege.”
“Yes. Yes, I did.”
She took a second to glance back to Luka Couffaine and his entourage.
He took a second to meet her eyes, turquoise eyes meeting dark blue.
They shined as he smiled.
She immediately looked away.
“ I am, ” Marinette hissed, “ so frustrated. ”
Master Fu hummed, not actually paying attention as he sipped his cup of tea. “I know Arithmancy is hard, but I don’t think it’s why you’re so pent up today.”
Marinette flushed, sinking back into her armchair a little more.
She was seated in Master Fu’s office and had been enough times that the spare seat near his desk had been unofficially labeled as her’s . And it was. Master Fu had even brought another chair so students coming for help wouldn’t sit on Marinette’s chair.
“Adrien...he submitted his name for the Triwizard Tournament.”
Master Fu’s eyebrows raised up, though he didn’t look surprised. “I can’t really say I didn’t expect that.”
“You did?”
“Yes.” He smiled kindly at her, dumping another spoon of sugar in his tea on top of his previous three.
“You’re going to die from all those preservatives.”
“On the contrary, it’s those preservatives that are currently preserving me. How else do you think I’ve lived till a hundred and eighty-six?”
Marinette scowled at him. “Why did you expect it?”
Master Fu shrugged, taking a sip of his over-sweetened tea. “Adrien has this drive to prove himself. Both as a Gryffindor and a son. He wants his father to see that just because he didn’t get into Slytherin didn’t mean that he was no less a good heir.”
“But that’s messed up. Adrien shouldn’t have to prove himself.”
“No, he shouldn’t,” Master Fu agreed. “Yet he feels like he must do it to be accepted by his father. A sad fact.”
“I hate Gabriel Agreste,” Marinette grumbled.
They both lapsed in silence, Marinette flipping through her Arithmancy book and Master Fu sipping his tea.
“Adrien has asked me to mentor him.”
“I thought he would.”
Marinette laughed. “Yeah. He thinks I can teach him how to win.”
“But you can’t?”
“Of course I can’t! The only way he’s going to win this tournament is through sheer ability and luck.”
Master Fu smiled at her. “There’s your answer.”
“What?”
“Teach him not how to win, but how to improve on what he has: ability.”
“What about luck?” Marinette grinned. “You don’t want me to teach him that?”
“He already has enough luck with you by his side. Teach him your ways, and we’ll be looking at an over-powered Agreste who would be able to blow up mountains in his sleep.”
“That was one time!”
Master Fu chuckled. “And what a way it was to announce that you had magic. Your parents were so frazzled when I arrived at your door with your acceptance letter.”
Marinette’s cheeks darkened as she set down her textbook heavily on Master Fu’s table. “Enough about me.”
The old professor smiled. “Of course.”
Friday arrived far too quickly, in Marinette’s opinion. One second she was attending Potions and submitting her assignment on Thursday, and then suddenly it was Friday, and she was in the Great Hall, with the Goblet of Fire, though thankfully all the benches and tables had been returned to their rightful places.
She was once again sitting with the Gryffindors, considering that Durmstrang’s 一 and by extension, Luka Couffaine 一 were sitting with the Slytherins. It didn’t feel right to be near them.
“When do you think they’ll announce the results?” Adrien whispered, practically bouncing next to her.
“Today, obviously.”
Adrien opened his mouth to say something else but was silenced as Alya kicked him under the table.
He wasn’t the only one though, she observed. The Hufflepuff table was practically vibrating with murmurs, and the Beautxbatons were shifting amongst themselves, whispering inaudibly to each other.
A loud clap ensured complete silence as Headmaster Damocles stepped forward, his back to the goblet. “The time has come. We shall now announce the Beauxbaton Champion.”
Out of the corner of her eye, Marinette saw every single Beauxbaton student rise up.
The goblet simmered before the flames rose up dangerously high and shot out a piece of paper that was immediately caught by Headmaster Damocles.
A pin could have been heard as it fell in the silence that ensued, brimming with tension and suspense.
“ ROSE LAVILLANT! ”
All at once, every single Beauxbaton screamed, prompting Marinette to clap her hands over her ears.
A young girl parted from the crowd, stumbling towards Headmaster Damocles, and almost tripped as she grasped his hand.
“I’m getting déjà vu,” Adrien theatrically whispered.
Marinette elbowed him.
“From Durmstrang, we now have一” Headmaster Damocles boomed.
Another piece of paper was burped out.
“ LUKA COUFFAINE! ”
“ I TOLD YOU ,” Adrien shrieked, along with every single Durmstrang student.
Marinette scowled as she watched the blue-hair-dyed boy walk leisurely towards Headmaster Damocles, stopping for a second to spare a glance at the rest of the hall.
She resisted the urge to flip him her finger.
“From Hogwarts一” Headmaster Damocles continued, just as Adrien’s hand slipped into hers and squeezed .
“We have…. ADRIEN AGRESTE! ”
Marinette immediately turned in her seat to crush him in a hug. “ YOU GOT CHOSEN! ”
Adrien, who had frozen up, immediately broke out of his catatonic state to hug her just as tight before letting go and tripping all the way as he jogged to Headmaster Damocles, a flush high on his cheeks as he shook his hand.
“Damn,” Alya whistled.
“Yeah.” Marinette’s face was starting to hurt from how wide she was grinning. Nothing could stop the warm feeling of pride that was bubbling in her chest.
“Now,” Headmaster Damocles said, “the Mahoutokoro champion. TSURUGI KAGAMI! ”
Marinette watched as the golden-robed girl stood up, walking calmly towards the staff table.
She had an air of regality around her, she noted, as Tsurugi-san shook the Headmaster’s hand and offered him a small, almost unnoticeable smile.
“He was correct.”
“Huh?” Alya leaned in closer. “Who was correct?”
“Adrien,” Marinette said. “He predicted that Tsurugi-san would get chosen. She’s apparently really good with magic.”
“Of course she is.” Alya pointed at her robes. “In Mahoutokoro, the color of the student’s robes change with how good they are at magic. Gold is the highest color in their system.”
“Ah.”
She grinned. “You’re going to have to make sure Adrien doesn’t die in there.”
Marinette grimaced. “I do, don’t I?”
“Get up,” Marinette ordered.
Adrien glanced up at her, frozen in the act of eating a toast. “Huh?”
“You asked me to mentor you, remember?”
“I was joking.”
“Well一” Marinette narrowed her eyes. “I was not. Get up. Starting today, I’m going to make sure you win this tournament.”
Adrien grinned, dropping his toast back down on his plate. “Nice! When do we start?”
“Right now. I’ve already gotten permission for both of us to skip our classes.”
“Wait, right now? I haven’t even finished my breakfast!”
“Sad.”
“ Marinette! ”