Hermione's POV

During Dinner, I met 2 of my other younger siblings. One was named Isabella Beatrice Zabini, who would be going to Hogwarts the following year. She was an insightful and remarkable girl, who unlike any girl at her tender age of 9, knew non-verbal spells and even more advanced magic than I did at her age.

I had a brother named Mattheo William Zabini, who was only 3, but was a remarkably bubbly child that was over-protective of the people whom he loved and cherished. Both of them were amazingly lovely, unlike their older brother, who was cretinous, instead.

As I silently ate some pasta, attempting to be polite, I heard Malfoy and Blaise laughing about something. When they were both questioned by Mrs Aurore, they were quite reticent about the topic of their recent conversation.

Since Mrs Aurore was an accomplished Legilimens (even better than Malfoy is), she abruptly barged into their minds and chuckled when she found out.

"Why didn't you reveal it? The entire Wizarding World must have known by now about the commencement of the Triwizard Tournament this year."

"Wait what?" I asked, appalled by this discovery. "There's going to be another Triwizard Tournament this year?"

Mrs Aurore pursed her lips as she nodded solemnly.

"However, in this year's Triwizard Tournament, there will be two champions from each school instead of one. One would be a girl and the other, a boy. There was a prophecy that there is someone that is cursed and certainly would be participating in the Triwizard Tournament. They say she..is a mastermind and had always been victorious. However, the last line of the prophecy was rumoured to have been written "She shall be cursed with killing her enemy, who is also her lover."

I gulped. Having to kill thy own enemy, who was also her lover is somewhat....complicating.

How does one even love their enemy?

I attempted to distract myself with a song my adoptive parents had taught me.

Isn't it lovely, all alone?

Heart made of glass, my mind of stone

Tear me to pieces, skin to bone

Hello, welcome home.

It felt exactly like that, except I was never welcome  to my own real home 'till now...

I felt like tearing up, ranting about all my challenges to the wall, as I sobbed silently, like I always did when I felt depressed.

But obviously no one, not even a single soul would care. Since when did anyone give a damn? Exactly no damn one. As I stood up to excuse myself after finishing my food to go to the bathroom, Mrs Aurore directed me to the nearest bathroom.

When we finally did reach there, I closed the door behind me, and soon I began to sob my heart and soul out, as I sat on the floor, hugging my knees desperately. I did not want to be here. Hell, I didn't even belong here.

My real friends-the ones that treated me for me instead of a Mudblood bookish know-it-all. However, for some incredibly strange reason, I felt like I should stay with them-become a Zabini and follow all their damn horrid pureblood traditions and rules.

After all, I could at least stop people from calling me Mudblood more. After all, I'll not be that insecure as I used to be...

I was ranting to my mind about how horrendous my lowly life was, until I heard a loud knock from behind the door, before it abruptly opened, with a tall, lanky man with platinum blond hair swept to the side. He was wearing a suit and tie with black pants and trainers.

When we met each other's gaze, he sneered-but this time it was without any malice "Look here, we've got Zabini here, crying like a little child. Poor little Zabini without no one to talk to-"

"But you're here anyways, talking to me aren't you?" I saw red and slapped him hard.

He really was horribly incorrigible, although he did somewhat look slightly concerned. That was a first. He silently held on to his cheek, which was red after that well-deserved slap I gave him.

"You'll never get it. Why don't you call me Mudblood? Didn't you-" I pointed as tears prickled my eyes once more "-despised me with your heart and soul?What happened, you prat?"

"The only thing that happened was that I regret all my decisions. I was afraid of you-after all, I was always second to you in everything and you, when I still you were a Muggle, feared that you would steal my job."

She scoffed "So you despised me only because you thought I, of all people, would steal your job as an apparent Muggle, despite my blood status, which you gave a damn about?"