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It's a tense twenty-or-so minutes until the first champion surfaces. Fleur struggles to the surface with a splash and a sodden shout, hardly managing to stay afloat in the choppy waters, and she's hauled onto the platform the students and teachers are standing on.
"Wasn't she meant to get her sister?" Sage asks Neville and Dean, who both shrug wide-eyed.
Seamus is grinning, "You can almost see right through her swimsuit—"
Sage and Dean smack him on the chest. Seamus pouts, then scowls.
"All the other boys are thinking it too."
Sage isn't. She's wondering, where's Gabrielle? Where are the other champions? Why did Fleur appear so early? She asks Dean these questions, but he just puts an arm around her shoulder and tells her that he doesn't know.
Then, half an hour later, Cedric (the sight of him makes her heart twist into knots) (she still isn't sure why, or how she's going to stop him from maybe dying) surfaces with Cho clutched in his arms. Sage thinks that it's cute, but it doesn't stop her worrying about Harry. And Hermione, even though they aren't friends at the moment because the silly cow thinks Sage is trying to steal Krum from her.
Moments later, Krum with Hermione. Dean clutches her shoulders as Sage takes a deep sigh of relief.
And then, finally, Harry with Ron and a little girl that bears a striking resemblance of the French girl quivering on the deck.
"That was stressful," says Neville. "My poor heart, only fourteen and it feels sixty!"
"Me too," says Sage, patting his back. She makes eye contact with Hermione, who gives her a little smile. Sage gives her a little smile back, and is about to walk over when her shoulder is wrenched back by someone that wants to do harm. Or, at least that's what it feels like.
"You," snarls a familiar voice. "With me. Now."
"Fuckin' hell," utters Sage, knowing that the tall, cloaked Professor is really going to murder her this time.
"You broke into my private stores, stole invaluable goods, and now have the gallantry to blame it on the Fat Friar?" Snape spits at her, pacing around the room and coming to a stop to lean over her in her seat. "I'll see you expelled for this, Laurent."
"Er, okay," says Sage. She's terrified, but also she isn't about to let the greaseball know that. She's a Gryffindor, goddammit. "I suppose somebody's blamed this on me, yeah?"
He scowls down at her, his nose making a perfect slope for his eyes to trace down. "I know it was you."
"Where's the proof, though? 'cause I've watched a lot of Murder, She Wrote, and you always need stone cold evidence."
