|Scene Title||The Hufflepuff Champion|
|Synopsis||Crouch Sr and Ollivander meet with Siobhan to go over the rules of the tournament and weigh in Siobhan's wand.|
|Location||Great Hall / Staff Room|
|Date||Nov 08, 1994|
|Watch For||Nothing much|
As was needed for the use of the room today, the armchairs have been swiveled around so they face away from the fireplace. Inside the room, only two figures reside. One is a taller man, recognizable as Barty Crouch Sr. from the Department of International Magical Cooperation. The othereasily recognizable by most as Ollivander, respected wandmaker. Both are sitting, each in their own chair, waiting on the next champion who was summoned a short moment ago.
Out of the blue, a very blonde head pops in through the doors, looking both ways to see if…yes, this is the room. Followed by an attached body in Slytherin robes, the head - belonging to one Siobhan Noble - enters the room fully. "Hullo," she offers both men, beaming her usual infectious grin. "My turn, then?"
Crouch pushes himself to his feet as Siobhan enters the room. "Indeed, Ms. Noble, it is." he says, extending out his hand in greeting. "My name is Barty Crouch, and I'm the head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation. And this…" he motions to Ollivander, "…I'm sure you know is Mr. Ollivander."
Ollivander offers a wave from his seat as well as a small smile. "Just formalities, you know. I trust you brought your wand with you?" he asks, seeing as how it's his job to ensure the wands are official.
Responding to Mr. Crouch's extended hand, Siobhan reaches to clasp it with her own in a firm shake. "Nice to meet you, Mister Crouch. My Da speaks quite highly of you." To Olivander she offers a wave in return. If her smile warms a little when turned on him, it's a small enough difference. "Oh, yeah, my wand." Slapping her wrist against her hip, her wand slides down into her hand where she grips it tightly before stepping towards the wandmaker. There's real hesitance in her at first, but she does offer him the wand, her posture tensing as soon as the wood leaves her hand.
"I know of your father, and…you uncle, I believe. Ichabod." Crouch doesn't seem all that familiar with the vampire side of the family, but then again, he hasn't gotten out much at the Ministry. But he can still try to play it off. "Both very wonderful assets to the Ministry. But that aside, it is my job here today to ensure that you know the rules of the tournament."
"Nothing to be alarmed or afraid of, Ms. Noble." Ollivander states, noticing the slight hesitation and tensing as the wand is passed to him. Fingering it gently, he nods and smiles. "Willow. Five and a half inches. Dragon Heartstring core. I remember the day you bought it. Eager and ready to learn how to use it." Turning, he points the wand at the fireplace. "Aguamenti!" A stream of water shoots out, vaporizing into steam as it hits the hot logs. Turning back, the wand is offered back to Sio. "Take good care of this wand and it will serve you well. The wand is certified." The last being said towards Crouch.
"A very great uncle," Siobhan corrects Crouch mildly. Olivander's reminder of her first trip into his shop has her smiling and nodding in agreement. "Still am, really." The day she learns everything will be the day life stops being any fun. Even with this gentle banter, she doesn't relax until the willow wand is back in her hand. "I'll do my best by it, sir." And her very small wand is slipped back up into her sleeve, hidden from sight. "The rules, yeah? All right."
Ollivander smiles and returns to his chair, lending the floor back to the senior Ministry official. Crouch doesn't flinch as he's corrected. International Magic doesn't afford him the luxury of knowing everyone at the Ministry. "As I'm sure Dumbledore mentioned at the start of term, having your name selected from the Goblet constitutes a binding magical contract. From this point forward, you are obligated to participate in the tournament. However, you may also withdraw at any time should you feel it necessary to do so. I cannot stress how dangerous the tournament can be. Or how many have died in the history of it."
The first bit makes sense, and so the young Slytherin just nods along. But then, rather out of the blue, something doesn't add up. "Hang on," Siobhan starts, canting her head off to one side. "I'm obligated to participate, but I can withdraw? That…seems a bit of a contradiction there, mate." Her father would cringe at the lack of decorum, but there's no disrespect in her tone, just an open curiosity. "And you don't need to stress the danger, Mister Crouch. I entered this tournament to push myself; to test my own limits." And suddenly, her seriousness fades into a playfully lopsided grin. "I've older brothers and family enough that have made sure I know. I've had the danger pounded into my head." Brown eyes narrow just a little, then. "What are the other rules?"
Crouch looks taken aback for a moment. Maybe he mis-spoke and should clarify. "By obligated, I mean you cannot defer your participation to another member of your house who also entered but was not picked." As he listens to her explain her reasons for entering, he grins. She's definitely more outspoken than the previous champion. "All good reasons for entering, but I still stress it. Often times too many have overlooked the dangers in favor of the prize money. As for the other rules, most will be designated at the time of the task. The first task will contain a clue to guide you to the next task. Otherwise, the tourmanent only has one simple rule. Don't die."
Live life in Siobhan's home, with her family, and there are only two possible outcomes; demure and quiet, hidden away, or outspoken and brightly shining. Sio took the latter route; it suits her better. "Ah, alright then. That makes sense." Still not withdrawing. That's one option she should probably keep to herself, lest overzealous family try and intervene. The rest of his explanation has her matching him grin for grin, but his final admonition has her laughing out loud. It's not a pretty laugh, all things considered, but it's infectious and genuine. "So it's just like life then? Don't die. I quite like that." Shaking her head, Siobhan pushes hair back from where it had fallen into her face. "When is the first task, then? And will we be told anything beforehand?"
"The first task will be scheduled in two weeks." Crouch answers, nodding his head slightly. "Champions will be told the day before the task what equipment they will be required to bring. All items needed will be stuff you should already have on hand. Should a special item be required, the Ministry will see to it that it is provided."
"Two weeks…" Siobhan rolls that thought around in her head. "Enough time for anyone who really shouldn't be doing this to back out, but not enough time for the competent ones to psyche themselves out of trying. Nothing to prepare for, since we don't even know what we'll need until the day before… Whoever designed the timing for this thing is bleedin' brilliant." The offer of special items is waved off. "I'll be able to get anything I'm missing, but thanks for the offer." Someone doesn't much trust the Ministry right now. "What about these…support teams we've been given? How do they work into this?"
Crouch grins and nods his head. "So far, no one has come forward with a request to withdraw." Not as if he expected anyone to anyhow. "The support teams will be there for their respective house champion. They are to provide any support for you at the start, end, and during the task within reason. As most are not of tournament participation age, we cannot allow them to be put in harms way. But they will be there to help you prepare for the task, as well as at the end."
"And I doubt you'll see one try before the first challenge." Just knowing her year-mates and those one form below gives that much insight. Siobhan seems to consider this a moment. "And we'll be told who our teams are…when, exactly?"
"There have been a few, in past tournaments…" Crouch starts, his lips twisting into a bit of a grin. Probably the most display of emotion you'll see out of him. "As for the teams, soon as we finalize the selections, you will be told and given a chance to meet with them."
"Fair enough." That twisted bit of a grin has Sio responding with a much brighter one. She's used to Snape, for heaven's sake. Lack of visible emotion is nothing new to her. "Then, Mister Crouch, Mister Ollivander, if neither of you have anythin' else I should know, I'll let you move on to your next victim."
Crouch offers a nod to Siobhan as she speaks. "That is all we had for you. You are free to return to your classes. And best of luck in the tournament." he says, moving back towards his chair. Ollivander offer Siobhan a smile and a wave, but doesn't say much else. It's more Barty's show than anything.