25- Breathtaking Anger-Management Issues

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The entire school looks at Skyler, disbelief and envy on the faces of every student. Skyler just blinks and shakes her head, her vision blurring of anger and disbelief for herself. How – why and more important: who?

"Skyler, could you please come forward." Dumbledore says firmly, looking her right in the eyes. Inhaling sharply, Skyler stands up and walks to professor Dumbledore.

"Professor, I swear, I haven't – I'd never!" She whispers to him. Dumbledore nods, handing her the paper.

'Skyler Johanna Thordottír- Foster Of The Nine Realms'

He believes her. She'd never write down her entire name.

"Go to the others, we'll follow in a minute..." Dumbledore whispers back, carefully, for he can almost feel the anger and confusion that's in her body right now. Her fists are clenched, and her breath is controlled and sharp.

Skyler nods and walks towards the small door as fast as possible, not wanting to "enjoy" all the commends Harry got. She hears a few but ignores them. She locks eyes with Snape, whose eyebrow is raised in disbelief. McGonagall looks at her compassionately. Skyler only nods in return, for she needs every bit of concentration to keep her anger under control. As soon as she's out of the Great Hall, thunder and lightning explode from the heavens and the clouds cry rain. Skyler follows the stairs to the next room, seeing that all the other champions are already waiting, looking confused at the young boy in front of them.

"Skyler?" Cedric notices, his eyes widening in realization, "No! They can't let you participate. You're too young." He steps forward to hug her, but Skyler holds her hand up.

"Ced, one warning: don't touch me right now. Unless you want to die. I'm fuming!" Skyler speaks, her voice trembling of self-control. Cedric nods and takes place at one of the seats at the fire place. For a small moment, Skyler closes her eyes and tries to get control over her breathing and anger.

"Harry!" She hears Dumbledore exclaim, as all the teacher storm into the room.

"Did you put your name in the Goblet of Fire?!" Dumbledore asks firmly.

"Madame, que font ces petits ici?"She hears Fleur Delacour ask her Head, Madame Maxime.

"Je ne suis pas un "petit"." Skyler growls to the girl, her eyes narrowed, but a smug smirk playing on her face. A little astonished, Fleur backs away, not wanting to fight Skyler.

"I swear, sir, I didn't put my name in it!" Skyler hears Harry assure professor Dumbledore. Once again, Skyler tries to take a deep breath, praying to the Norns that she's not going to explode when she says something.

"If I may ask," Skyler starts softly, using her Silver Tongue – she's throwing all weapons to it, "do I really have to – you know – participate in this ridiculous Tournament? If not, I'd like to go back now." She finishes with a bittersweet smile, feeling all the eyes on her.

"If tuthink this tournamentridicule, why participate?" Madame Maxime asks haughtily, making Skyler's blood boil even more.

"I didn't." She answers sharply, giving the Hogwarts' teachers a warning that she's on the edge of true anger.

"Mr. Crouch, what do you say of this?" Dumbledore asks hopefully. Crouch thinks for a while, before turning to the others again.

"The Goblet of Fire is like a magical contract. It's binding. Ms Foster and Mr Potter have no choice, they are, here and now, a Triwizard Champion. They'll need to study harder for every task, for they have arrearage on the others." He says strictly. Skyler's eyes widen, and she takes a sharp inhale of breath. How in the name of Odin – wait one second! Odin! Asgard!

"Uhm, excuse me. Now we're talking about magic... what kind of magic are we allowed to use?" She bluntly asks. The entire room – except the Hogwarts' Teachers and Cedric – tenses.

"What- what kind of magic! Dumbledore, this girl obviously is mental, she's referring to Dark Arts!" Igor Karkaroff, Head of Durmstrang exclaims astonished. At that Skyler bursts out laughing, it's not an amused laugh, more like laughing at.

"Oh, no, sir, of course I'm not referring to something as pathetic as Dark Arts. I'm referring to kindsof magic. Where does the magic needs to come from? Is there a limit of distance?" Skyler asks Dumbledore directly, a twinkle in her eyes. Understanding her, Dumbledore shakes his head.

"Excellent! Then, I'm afraid that I have to go to a library right now. I promise to be back tomorrow." Skyler says as she claps her hands together. She spins around, wanting to leave but Madame Maxime stops her.

"Tu n'es pas going to 'ave this girl just leave, are tu, Dumbledore?" She asks astonished. Dumbledore shrugs, holding his hands up.

"Well, I don't really think that it's smart to stop her now, Olympe. She doesn't really have a good anger management." He answers.

"Quidoes she thinks she is? She's just so, young, so petite." Fleur asks bluntly. Skyler scoffs.

"Who I am? I am Skyler Foster, Youngest Winner of the Order of Merlin, First Class. I was the highest rank agent of a secret agency and I'm a freakin' Avenger. Is that enough for you?" Skyler spats, looking at Madame Maxime again. "Now, please, Madame, let me through, because my patience isn't well right now."

Madame Maxime gulps and steps aside, and Skyler walks upstairs leaving the others to deal with their problems. Once outside of the Great Hall, Skyler teleports to her dormitory, and takes her backpack. She teleports outside, in the Forbidden Forest and looks up to the sky.

"Heimdall, I really need some answers." She says, before a bundle of light appears around her.

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TADAA!! What did you guys think? Don't forget to vote. - x PS: I'm very sorry if the French is bad, but I used Translate for my French is the worst. ;)

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