It took around a week and a half before the three champions were chosen.
You sit sandwiched between Theodore and Draco as the names of the champions get called out. Draco cheers as Krum gets chosen to represent Durmstrang and you clap loudly for Fleur and Cedric.
But the Great Hall falls silent as a fourth piece of paper flies out of the fire. And when Harry's name gets called out by Dumbledore, you jump up from your seat in search of Harry.
How's this possible? He's not even of age!
Blaise scoffs, folding his arms over each other. "Of course, bloody Potter has to steal the spotlight."
"I can't imagine he wanted this. Didn't you see the panicked look on his face?" You glance over to the Gryffindor table and make eye contact with Hermione. You share a panicked look, thinking the same.
"Are you seriously concerned for Potter?" Draco grimaces, pulling his nose up in disgust.
Rolling your eyes, you turn around and get up. You see no point in staying around any longer around the sour brigade.
"Black! Wait up!"
You turn around and arch a brow as you see Theodore briskly walking down the hall. He catches up with you in no time and he pulls you to continue walking towards the Slytherin dorm.
Theodore chews on the inside of his cheeks in a nervous-like manner. Theodore? Nervous? Since when? "Do you want to grab some breakfast together tomorrow?" He glances at you as he stuffs his hands in the pockets of his trousers.
You furrow your eyebrows. "Sure..."
"Great. See you tomorrow", he says as turns to go to the boy's dormitories.
What in the name of Salazar's saggy eye bags was that?
You let yourself fall face-first on the four-poster bed, closing the curtains with a flick of your wand.
A bad feeling about the whole Harry and the Triwizard tournament thing-y grows in the pits of your stomach. There is no way he would ─ or could ─ enter the tournament by himself. Not even with an ageing spell. Fred and George Weasley already tried that, and it ended with them being hexed old and greying.
Sleep does not come easy, but morning does eventually roll in. Flicking open the curtains, you stretch your back ─ popping a few joints ─ before you get washed and dressed and ready for the day.
As you walk into the common room, a sigh leaves your lips as you spot Theodore, Lorenzo, and Draco (plus his minions) sit on the couches, conversing in a hushed tone.
With another sigh, you make your way over to them and awkwardly stand in front of the boys, dropping your book bag on the ground. "Ready to go?", you ask Theodore, who jumps up from the cough.
He wordlessly grabs his own book bag and yours before making his way up the stairs to get out of the common room.
You shoot an exasperated look at Draco before following behind the brown-haired boy. He's already out the door once you catch up to him.
"You don't have to carry my book bag, Theodore." You huff and puff out of breath as you walk next to him. Damn Hogwarts — and Slytherin — for the ridiculous amount of stairs in the school.
"Well... get used to it", he answers gruffly. His grip on the traps of your book bag tightens as you try to pry it out of his hands.
You hear a scuffle behind you and look over your shoulder. Draco, Lorenzo, Blaise and the others of your cousin's lackeys try not so subtly follow after the both of you from a distance.
A hand on your shoulder makes you turn back around and look up at Theodore, who glares at the group of boys behind. "Don't mind them. They're idiots."
"Tell me about it", you grumble, making a small smile form on the boy's face.
Not much else is said as you reach the Great Hall. You shrink under the many curious eyes that follow Theodore and you. Theodore clears a bunch of First-years from a spot with a glare and offers the now-empty space to you.
"Thanks", you say softly, awkwardly sitting down. "Juice?" You hold up a pitcher.
As you pour the pumpkin juice into two cups, your eyes catch Harry's. He looks at you with all sorts of questions written on his face. You shrug and give a cup to Theodore.
After a couple of moments of eating in silence, Theodore clears his throat. "So... what do you like to do in your free time?"
You're halfway a piece of toast when he asks that. With a big gulp of juice, you force the bread down. "I like to fly. I also like to read."
Theodore nods slowly, urging you to go on.
"Back home, at the Manor, has a big library with all sorts of wizardkind literature. I bet I read ninety per cent of all the books in there. It is a shame it doesn't have muggle books and stories."
Theodore gasps dramatically. "A Black? Wanting to ready muggle books? How scandalous!"
A laugh bubbles up from your chest, and you push against Theodore's shoulder. "Shut up. They're good writers, okay!"
He smiles. The first genuine smile you've seen Theodore Nott smile in all your four years at Hogwarts. Deep inside it feels good to know you are the reason he smiles.
"And you?", you cock your head to the side, "what do you do when you're not up in the sky practising for quidditch?"
Theodore runs a hand through his dark hair, messing it up slightly. "I would be too busy for any hobbies if Dumbledore hadn't cancelled the Cup this year because of the tournament. You said you liked to fly, right?"
You nod.
"If you would like, we could fly around the pitch sometime. Then I can see how well you hold up against a quaffle." Theodore leans closer, his eyes shifting from one of your eyes to the other.
A smile grows on your face as you nod. You're not good, but you can make some speed on Draco's broom you borrow at home. "I would like that."
"Great", smiles Theodore. "Let's finish breakfast so I can walk you to your first class. What's on your schedule?"
You stare at the letter you got from Sirius Black, re-reading it time after time, making sure you're not imagining things. The house elves flock around the kitchen as they are preparing the breakfast for tomorrow morning ─ which is actually in just a few hours.
The door to the kitchen swings open and in stumbles Harry, sweat lingers on his brow and he's as pale as a sheet. He doesn't seem to notice you sitting in one of the built-in niches as he walks toward a house elf and asks him for hot milk.
"Are you okay?" Harry jumps a metre in the air and he turns around towards you, his eyes big. But once he notices it's you, he relaxes.
"Ye-yeah. What are you doing up so early?"
You shrug, "never went to sleep, to be honest. What are you doing up so early."
Harry sighs. "Nightmares..."
With an understanding nod, you pull up your feet from the wooden bench so he can sit. "How are you holding up? With everything that is..."
Harry pulls his knees up to his chest, gripping the mug with hot milk. "To be honest... I don't know. They... the ministry has decided to let me compete."
You sit up straight. "They can't be serious?! Someone obviously put your name in!"
"The rules are rules", he shrugs, taking a sip.
Slumping down, a huff escapes your lips. "It's all a bunch of bull. It's like someone has it out for you."
Your comment makes the both of you stop and look at each other before giggling. Obviously, someone is after Harry. He's Harry Potter, after all.
"Ron's angry at me", he mumbles after a moment of silence between you two. "He thinks I've put my name in without me telling him."
"He's being a bonehead, that's what he is. And a bloody idiot."
Harry raises his mug to that and finishes it in one go. "I'll go back before the first professor wakes up. See you later, Black."
"See you, Potter." You wave him goodbye and watch him disappear behind the painting. You yourself also decide to go back to bed and thank the elves for the tea before going to the Slytherin entrance.