A/N- So just to update, Halle AND James were just chosen for the triwizard tournament. CONTROVERSY!
Chapter 6: Of Nutters and McGonagall’s Fanclub
The hall was stock silent, no one dared to make a sound. And there was no way in hell I was getting up from my seat. I didn’t even enter. What the fuck was going on?
Potter was half way up the aisle, but had frozen and was staring at me with shock, along with the rest of the hall. McGonagall quickly got up and yelled, ‘James Potter and Halle Thomas!’
Potter continued up the aisle but the chatter didn’t start. Elle nudged me, but it was like I’d lost all feeling. And then I lost it.
‘What?’ I screeched, ‘I didn’t even enter! That’s not even bloody possible!’
Everyone seemed to take my outburst as permission to speak, and the hall became an arena. People were yelling, especially those from the Durmstrang Institute, complaining that Hogwarts yet again got another two champions.
And those boys had a whole vocabulary of foreign swears.
Kingsley cleared his throat, and the hall returned to its solemn silence. ‘Halle Thomas! To the stage now!’ he bellowed, making me nearly jump out of my skin.
I leaped from my bench and skittered my way to the stage, avoiding people’s stares. What the hell was going on? I explicitly decided I wasn’t going to enter the competition, and here I was, walking up the aisle. The cup hadn’t even spewed out a second piece of parchment. There had only been Potter’s. Again, that’s not even fucking possible.
I nodded curtly to Kingsley, before he instructed me to go to a side room. As soon as I had disappeared the school had erupted back into chatter, and I could hear the teachers trying to calm them down. But everything seemed to pass through me, like I was a hollow shell of my former self.
Oh. Ma. Gawd. This is not good, not good at all. I would give up talking about rubber ducks to get myself out of this situation.
That’s a lie; I wouldn’t give my rubber ducks up for anything.
Potter was waiting behind the door, his arms crossed. ‘What the fuck, Thomas! How did you get the Goblet to choose you? You told me you weren’t even going to enter!’
I stared at him in disbelief, did he honestly think I did this on purpose? ‘You fuckwit, I didn’t do this on purpose! I didn’t even put my name in the Goblet!’ I said, letting my anger and shock out in that one sentence.
And then I was left with fear. Was I really going to have to compete in the Tournament? I wasn’t strong enough, I wasn’t smart enough. I was in Ravenclaw for Merlin’s sake; I wasn’t cut out for this shit.
Potter seemed to sense my change in attitude, and he awkwardly ruffled the back of his hair. Oh god, he wasn’t going to try and hug me, was he?
Just kill me now.
Fortunately our awkward moment was cut short, and my attention focused on the approaching legion of extremely pissed of professors.
‘I didn’t put my name in the Goblet! I swear!’ I pleaded, looking at McGonagall and Kingsley.
Kingsley nodded, ‘It wasn’t your fault at all, Halle. But I’m afraid you’re going to have to pay for another idiot’s mistake,’ he said, looking straight at Potter.
Why was he looking at Potter?
Potter ran his fingers through his hair, ‘I didn’t do anything, sir!’
Kingsley shook his head, ‘The parchment which you deposited into the Goblet had Halle’s name on it too. Were you really so careless to forget to check what you placed in there?’ he chastised.
Potter turned red and looked at the ground. I let the little cogs in my head turn around.
Did he put a piece of parchment inside the goblet which had both of our names on it?
Hang on a second; did he use parchment from Potions class? The one which said both our names on it? Was he really so stupid that he didn’t check the incriminating parchment before practically changing my life forever?
‘Of all the parchments in the entire world,’ I muttered, narrowing my glare on his stupid, abashed face.
This was all fucking Potter’s fault.
I refrained from poking him straight in the eye, ‘Are you fucking stupid? What kind of idiotic moron throws the wrong piece of parchment into the ruddy Goblet of Fire! Do you even realise-’
‘Oh get over yourself. Like you’re not savouring the fact that for once people have acknowledged your presence further than that Ravenclaw in the corner,’ he spat.
‘Low Blow, Captain Desperate. Where are the famous witty comebacks?’
McGonagall cleared her throat in a derisive manner, successfully silencing the both of us. Suddenly aware of our entire audience, I blushed a bright scarlet.
Woah, I just swore in front of a whole legion of teachers. Now Madame Toulous and Krinnin Gregor probably think Hogwarts is a school for rabid animals and swearing, hormonal teenagers.
Oh wait, it is.
The other two champions, I noticed, were watching from the side, with amused expressions on their faces.
Potter looked at me, that Gryffindor impulse to save a damsel-in-distress kicking in, ‘Professors, this must be a mistake. It’s not like she’s actually a contestant. It was my parchment which came out of the goblet, not hers. This is just a really big misunderstanding,’ he reasoned, and I felt myself calming down a little bit.
But Kingsley shook his head, ‘Technically her name came out of the Goblet. She has as much right to be a Champion as you, Mr Potter,’ he said, pointing at him.
‘Kingsley, you can’t possibly be suggesting that the child enter the Tournament! She clearly doesn’t want to!’ said Professor McGonagall, a protective air in her voice.
Aww, I didn’t even think liked me.
Shit, am I fangirling over McGonagall?
Oh I think I am. This is not good.
‘Well this is just unfair!’ said Madame Toulous, ‘Hogwarts can’t have two champions yet again!’ she complained, narrowing her eyes at me.
I held up my hands, ‘Hey, I’m not complaining. Please let me drop out,’ I pleaded, once more for good measure.
But Kingsley looked strong, ‘I’m afraid your name came out of the Goblet, and Tournament protocol strictly states any name to leave the Goblet must enter the Tournament. It’s a binding magical contract, I fear for Miss Thomas’s safety if she refuses to enter,’ he said, solemnly.
Potters face was a weird mix of guilt and anger. Anger? He had no fucking reason to be angry in this whole situation!
He bit his lip, something which unintentionally made my heart whir slightly faster, ‘Wow, Thomas. I’m –er –sorry,’ he admitted ruefully.
An apology? A lame, half-arsed, apology? I think not, Potter.
‘I don’t want to hear it,’ I said, not looking at him. Our half-friendship? Tattered, in shreds. That bastard was going to pay.
Suddenly overwhelmed with the whole situation, I felt the burning desire to sink my teeth into a bowl of pastry goodness. That seemed to be the only remedy for my current situation.
‘I’m going to go get a pie, do you mind?’ I said, gesturing to the doorway.
McGonagall pursed her lips, ‘I hardly think this is the time to think about pastries, Miss Thomas! Please stay for the remainder of the talk!’
Bitch, it’s always time to think about pastries.
I am officially over McGonagall and I’m quitting her hypothetical fan club.
I wonder if she even has a fan club.
Probably does, somewhere. Filled with creepy old men. Maybe Freddie’s a part of it.
Kingsley looked slightly amused, ‘Congratulations to all of you, we were hoping for a regular Tournament, but I suppose things are never regular anymore,’ he said, looking at everyone. ‘You are all to meet here tomorrow at twelve o ‘clock for a quick debriefing of the Tournament, and then your wands shall be weighed. After that, all you must do is wait for the first task. I wish you all the best of luck,’ he explained.
What the fuck was I going to do?
The teachers erupted into argument, everyone back-pedalling and trying to think of another solution. It seemed like none of them wanted me in the Tournament, either.
I looked at the other two champions, who looked as amused as Kingsley. Adriane was beautiful, with a short ginger bob, and delicate brown eyes. She looked like the kind of girl who could ruin your reputation with one rumour. I don’t like those kinds of girls.
Oh that’s right, boys. Trust Potter to give her a not-so-subtle glance over.
I rolled my eyes, of course. Only Potter would be able to check out a beautiful, French person (who was probably part Veela, considering my luck) after he had just completely ruined my life.
Besides, he’s never given me a not-so-subtle glance over.
Sometimes I don’t understand the things which come out of my brain.
Adriane seemed to be lapping up the attention. Alright bitch, get ready for a famous Halle –mother fucking –Thomas glare.
Unfortunately however, I seem to possess the absolutely pathetic incapability to glare. And raise my eyebrows in a singular fashion.
Cue cliché teenage angst moment: I hate my life.
So my attempt glare has already turned into a strange cross between an eye squint and an eye tremor.
Hopefully she won’t notice.
Shit, she noticed.
And what’s her course of action? She glares at me. A full-fledged, bitch-I’ve-been-glaring-since-before-you-were-born eye attack was now being sent my way.
I am not equipped for this situation. I know! I’ll break the eye contact by pretending to do up my shoe.
Of course, I’m wearing ballet flats.
Now earning the classic has-thing-girl-just-been-excused-from-Mungo’s? stare, I was just about ready to kill myself.
Note, the above activities, took the time of roughly about fifty seconds.
However an extremely awkward and uncomfortable fifty seconds, nonetheless.
My eyes fell to David, who was kind of weird looking, with a face full of acne and Merlin knows what else. His biceps, which were bulging out from underneath his blood red cloak, looked like they could pick me up and toss me across the room at a moment’s notice.
He smirked, ‘Beating two Hogwarts losers will be even better than beating one,’ he declared, before walking away.
Adriane giggled, ‘What an unfortunate situation you’ve landed yourself in, dear. See you tomorrow!’
The teachers were still arguing amongst themselves, so I sighed and let myself out, Potter hot on my heels, an emotion similar to guilt spread across his features.
Strange, the Potter I knew didn’t have emotions.
‘Thomas, I said I was sorry!’ he said, once again. We passed the turn for the Gryffindor common room ages ago, so he clearly was not going to leave me alone.
Once again I replied him with silence, and he grunted in frustration. I smirked to myself; aggravating Potter filled me with a sense of strange self-satisfaction.
Without a second’s warning, he had grabbed my waist and pushed me up against a wall, trapping me with his Quidditch-toned body, hands pressed on the wall, mere centimetres from my face. His expression was strong, unwavering, and he was absolutely unfazed by the close contact.
I, on the other hand, was about to fall into a puddle of goo. When the only guys you hang out with are nothing more than brothers to you, being in such close proximity with a (undeniably attractive) male tends to do strange things to a Thomas brain.
‘Thomas, talk to me,’ he demanded. It was not a suggestion, it was not a plea, it was an order.
‘Why should I?’
‘Now,’ he said, unmoving in his near-rape position, ‘Was that so hard?’
I hmphed, ‘It was pretty difficult.’
He rolled his eyes in annoyance, what was once a sparkle of remorse in his eye was gone, replaced with irritation.
And for some reason, that sparked something within me. I was usually the non-confrontational type, more comfortable just reading a book and letting time heal all my quick fall-outs with the two people’s whose opinion actually mattered to me- Jordin and Elle. Who, coincidentally happen to be the only people I have ever fought with in my entire Hogwarts career.
Except for Scorpius.
So why is it, that my sudden befriending with James Potter has caused a sudden increase in my number of spats? Good natured teasing was one thing, but this? I don’t even know what this was.
‘How dare you,’ I hissed, ‘How dare you have the nerve to be annoyed at me? You’ve just fucking signed my death warrant, and you’re honestly telling me you’re annoyed with me? Someone was obviously dropped multiple times when they were younger, because only you could have the nerve to be annoyed in this situation.’
Wow. It was like a whole burden had been lifted off my chest. From a girl who’s only ever fought with three people before, to speak like this, to Potter of all people, was quite the accomplishment.
He cocked an impressed eyebrow, ‘You done?’
Sighing, I nodded my head in defeat, ‘I ‘spose,’
Inching away from me, he relented in his jail-cell pose, leaving me feeling uncharacteristically cold.
‘Look, Thomas,’ he said, shoving his fingers through his hair so violently, I was surprised he didn’t tear a chunk out. ‘Believe it or not, I really am sorry. I, I wasn’t thinking. I just grabbed the first bit of parchment I found and didn’t bother to check it. It’s all my fault. And trust me when I say this, but I don’t admit to things often. So, yeah Thomas, I’m sorry.’
His eyes were different now. Sorrow was mixing with the intense brown swirls which inhabited his irises, making my knees shake. Without thinking, I nodded, ‘I know.’
‘So, we good?’ he asked, taking another step back.
‘Yeah, we good my homie,’ I replied, taking another step closer.
And just like that, we really were.
sexual tension, it's the bomb. james is a douche, but a lovable one, so all is forgiven!
REVIEW CHILD, AND YOUR LIFE WILL BE PROSPEROUS (i promise)
just remember, nothing wonderful came from my mind. that was all JK. to the Rowling.