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CHAPTER FOURTEEN
let's not start a riot
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THE FEELINGS of inadequacy of being compared to Viktor Krum were temporarily purged from Edmund's mind as soon as he saw the smile that Hermione gave to him. It was small and awkward and cute; she didn't show it to Krum, she showed it to him. One of his own encompassed his face as he stuck his gloved hands in his pockets as he approached. A small, "Hi," slipped from his mouth.

"Hi there," she returned, starting to lead the two of them towards the castle.

As they walked side by side while trying not to bump into passing students, Edmund became overwhelmed to form an interesting sentence to pique her interest; unfortunately that was something that he clearly could not do in this situation. So all that he could come up with was, "How has your day been?"

She nodded to herself as they entered the castle, "Good, good. And you?"

"Good," he repeated, starting to acknowledge the fact that all the students bustling around them were slowly pushing the two of them closer together. Edmund was content on letting their shoulders touch, his heart started to race just thinking about it.

"How are things? With, you know," Hermione paused, not wanting to say whatever it was out loud. Edmund gave her a confused look, making her pull at her sleeves nervously. "...Uh, your family."

If Edmund was being completely honest with himself, he had forgotten about their conversation after his birthday when he blamed his abnormal behavior on his parents. Which was still slightly the truth, so he technically did not lie. Not planning on lying now, he said, "I have decided to ignore the problem until it goes away...and I have been successful until just now."

"Oh."

The realization of how that could have sounded made him slightly panic. He abruptly turned toward her and began to reassure her with drastic hand gestures as they started walking up some stairs. "Not that I am blaming you or anything, of course!"

"Of course," Hermione nodded along while trying to hide her smile at seeing the alarmed expression that overtook the boy's face, worried that he had offended her.  "How is Tomen doing?"

He answered after calming down a bit, "He's still the annoying little shit he has always been."

A sudden laugh shot out from Hermione's mouth — unexpected and interruptive. Her hand touched her mouth as she looked almost horrified by her actions. Her cheeks turned bright red, she sent Edmund a sharp glare as he started to laugh in shock. In response, she sent a surprisingly painful back handed slap to his bicep.

"My, my, what a beautiful laugh you have, Hermione," he teased, liking the sound of her name on his tongue.

She mumbled a quiet, "Just shut it,"  before she turned her head away from him.

By that time, they had almost made it into the Great Hall and they noticed it was about time for them to separate. Both of them slowed their pace to elongate the time to spend with each other without knowing it.

Hermione had a devious look on her face as she turned towards Edmund, who looked deliciously unsuspecting to what she was about to say, "So, would you care to explain why you were staring at me earlier."

That sentence caught his attention. His head whipped over and it was time for him to blush; he guessed this was payback for laughing at her.

"I-uh," he sputtered momentarily as he tried to come up with an excuse, "There was something in your teeth."

'What the hell did I just say?'

Hermione had an expectant and cocky look on her face as she took in his response, not believing a word he said and not breaking eye contact. She raised her brow, "Oh, really?"

"Oh, yeah, totally," he nodded, "Had some spinach — stuck right up in there — really embarrassing — mhm."

She scoffed, "You're such a liar."

They entered the hall as one of the last students. Beauxbattons had taken a seat at the Ravenclaw table, still shivering feverishly unlike Edmund, who stopped once they stepped foot into the castle. Just to his luck, Durmstrang was sitting at his table, right next to where his spot is. He saw Tomen sat near a couple of the Bulgarian students, asking them questions they assumedly didn't understand and/or didn't like by the looks on their faces.

"I have to go before Tomen gets himself into trouble," Edmund commented as he looked back.

"Yeah," she nodded before looking like she remembered something, "And, hey, I'm glad you're doing better; whatever you're doing, keep doing it...You look happier."

Not thinking as he spoke, some words almost slipped right out of his mouth, but he stopped himself before he say anything he would be embarrassed about later. He settled on a simple, "I will," with a smile.

The pair bid each other farewell and went to their own respected tables. Edmund sat at his seat in a very joyous mood, one that Selena congratulated him on while Will seemed preoccupied with something.

Dumbledore's welcoming speech greeting the foreign guests was basic and something Edmund wouldn't remember later, and then the feast finally had begun. He started loading potatoes onto his golden plate, but paused once he heard Tomen's tone towards someone.

"What are you staring at, beef neck?"

When Edmund turned, Tomen had his head tilted threateningly towards a particularly large Durmstrang student who had his eyes glued on his wheelchair. Tai, who was sitting beside him, looked mortified and trying to shrink himself as much as possible as Tomen continued. "Huh? Never seen a lad in a wheelchair before? Piss off, would you?"

One that looked like it could be female with shoulder length, greasy black hair spoke quickly in a Bulgarian accent, seemingly defending her friend. But Tomen didn't care, "You want some, too? Pack it up Professor Snape, you can fuck off, as well."

As the larger one started to stand and growled in anger, Edmund couldn't help but realize he stood half a foot above his own head — and Edmund was tall for his age. The fear of Tomen being literally murdered right in front of him by this Durmstrang student made his heart race and his fight or flight kick in; his left hand instinctively went to his brother's wheelchair and the other for his wand.

Luckily, Will interrupted, too dumb to think of the consequences of trying to diffuse the tension.

"Hey, hey, let's all relax," he stood fast and put his hands up. He spoke in an incredibly calm voice for the situation while Edmund pulled Tomen away from the fuming boy. "Let's not blow this out of proportion, mate! He was just messing around, playing a little joke. That's how we joke with our friends here at Hogwarts! See it's funny—"

He started laughing with his hands on his stomach and his head thrown back ridiculously. His eyes glanced at the table to see Selena, Edmund, and Tai just staring with wide eyes, so, he sent an aggressive 'HA!' towards them so they would get the hint — which they did. They started to chuckle, awkwardly and semi-frightened with very tense shoulders. Tai couldn't move and looked like he was about to soil his trousers.

Eventually, the Bulgarians started to laugh, too — they bought it.

"We apologize. We did not realize he was making jokes." The large one clapped Will on the back, almost knocking him over, "You are funny, малко момче от скариди."

Will smiled as best as he could and nodded, "Yeah...You, too, budd- sir- man."

The Durmstrang students laughed again at his stuttering as everyone relaxed and sat back at their seats. Edmund managed to move them all a couple seats away while Will was distracting them, so they had room to talk quietly about what had just happened.

"What the fuck, Tomen?" Selena cursed from across the table, "Are you trying to die?"

"Actually, I'm doing quite good at that on my own, thank you," Tomen rebutted, his face growing hot.

"You didn't have to insult them like that, one of them could break all of us in half with a single hand simultaneously!"  Will looked jumpy as his adrenaline wore off, "But did you guys see how I just handled that? I just did that—"

"Back on topic," Edmund stopped him before he continued. He then tried to be understanding, "I'm not in your shoes, I know that, but you cannot keep doing this. You bite off more than you can chew all the time. And one day we won't be here to get you out of a bad situation."

Clearly he had chosen the wrong words because Tomen looked furious and he blew up, "I don't NEED you to help me! I can take care of my damn self plenty on my own. I didn't ask you to come coddle me like a fucking child!"

His volume alone caught the eyes of several people around them, but he didn't obviously care. Edmund took a quick look around, breathed, analyzed his words, and then continued, "All I'm saying is that you can't just cuss out everyone that pisses you off and get away with it every time."

"...Watch me."

Without another word, Tomen backed up and started to roll himself away. Tai stood to follow, but Tomen held out his hand this time and said, "Don't,"  with a sharp tone before leaving and eating with strangers at the opposite side of the Slytherin table.

Edmund understood Tomen had a right to be angry at the world, but when he saw the look on Tai's face, he felt exceedingly guilty and embarrassed. He was use to this behavior, kind of, from his brother, but Tai wasn't. Edmund and Tomen always made up, but Tai was obviously very sensitive and was not use to being talked to like that. Slowly, Tai lowered himself back onto his seat and stared into his food, even though he didn't plan on eating any of it. Looking like he was on the verge of crumbling, Edmund just patted his shoulder briefly and then didn't mention Tomen again for the rest of the meal. Luckily, they had someone segway the conversation into something else, and that person was Dumbledore.

"The moment has come...The Triwizard Tournament is about to start," he began, a light smile on his face, "I would like to say a few words of explanation before we bring in the casket just to clarify the procedure which we will be following this year. But firstly, let me introduce, for those who do not know, Mr. Bartemius Crouch, Head of the Department of International Magic Co-operation; and Mr. Ludo Bagman, Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports."

He let the students give an expected round of applause, a significantly louder round for the second one, for the two men who had apparently taken a seat next to Dumbledore's chair. Edmund clapped, but his hands barely made any noise from his laziness and disinterest in who was over the tournament.

"Mr. Bagman and Mr. Crouch have worked tirelessly over the last few months on the arrangements for the Triwizard Tournament and they will be joining myself, Professor Kakaroff, and Madame Maxine on the panel which will judge the champions' efforts."

"That seems a little biased, don't you think," Will whispered across the table. "I assumed it was going to be, like, fair for everyone."

Edmund squinted, "What? Are you planning on entering?"

"Maybe."

Dumbledore then turned to the side to someone Edmund didn't even realize was there, "The casket, then, if you please, Mr. Filch."

The entire Great Hall went silent and unmoving as a great wooden chest with sparkling, decorative jewels was brought in and sat beside their headmaster — the Beauxbatton students even stopped shivering to stare. Edmund found himself unable to look away.

"The instructions for the tasks the champions will face this year have already been examined by Mr. Crouch and Mr. Bagman and they have made the necessary arrangements for each challenge. There will be three tasks, spaced throughout the school year, and they will test the champions in many different ways," Dumbledore continued, "Their magical prowess; their bravery; their powers of deduction; and, of course, their ability to cope with danger."

Edmund couldn't help but wish Dumbledore would hurry up since he already knew all of this information from when he studied the tournament beforehand. But seeing as how everyone else was mesmerized by what he was saying, he assumed no one else did.

"As you know, three champions compete in the tournament, one from each of the participating schools. They will be marked on how well they perform each of the tournaments tasks, and the champion with the highest total after task three will win the Triwizard Cup. The champions will be chosen by an impartial selector," a dramatic pause, "The Goblet of Fire."

Without further ado, Dumbledore tapped thrice on the top of the box, and the lid slid open with a creek that echoed throughout the entire Great Hall.

A cup, wooden like the box, was lifted from the casket with flames the color of hot lightning expelling from the top. Edmund felt like he was stuck in a chokehold when he finally saw the cup in person. Everyone else seemed to be slightly underwhelmed by the presentation, but Edmund couldn't help his hands from starting to shake from his lap underneath the table and his breathing to become uneven. Doubt in his plan crept silently into his mind, but he forcibly pushed it out. He didn't want to think about it right now.

"Anybody wishing to submit themselves as champions must write their name and school clearly upon a slip of parchment and drop it into the Goblet. Aspiring champions have twenty-four hours in which to put their names forward. Tomorrow night, Hallowe'en, the Goblet will return the names of the three it has judged the most worthy to represent their schools. The Goblet will be placed in the Entrance Hall tonight, where it will be freely accessible to all those wishing to compete. To ensure that no underage students yield to temptation, I will be drawing an Age Line around the Goblet of Fire once it has been placed in the Entrance Hall. Nobody under the age of seventeen will be able to cross the line."

Edmund heard the cries of despair from the Gryffindor table all the way from his seat from the Weasley twins, who's birthday assumedly fell too late for them to enter. He couldn't help the grin that pulled at his lips.

"Finally, I wish to impress upon any of you wishing to compete that this Tournament is not to be entered into lightly...Once a champion has been selected by the Goblet of Fire, he or she is obligated to see the tournament through to the end. The placing of your name in the Goblet constitutes a binding, magical contract. There can be no change of heart once you have become a champion. Please be very sure, therefore, that you are wholeheartedly prepared to play before you drop your name into the Goblet..."

Dumbledore's face was extremely serious and had no trace of lightheartedness as he warned the students of the consequences of entering. He looked very powerful; Edmund forgot how terrifying Dumbledore looks when he is trying to be intimidating.

The boy looked around and saw a couple Slytherins who were set on competing looked a bit discouraged now, some flat out refused after that. When he turned back, he unexpectedly locked eyes with Dumbledore's silvery ones. He felt his heart drop for a moment before the headmaster returned to normal like nothing had just happened.

"Now, I think it's time for bed," his smile dissolved some of the tension in the room, "Good night to you all!"

Everyone was dismissed to their rooms, and finally, Edmund's panic started to set in.

Edmund did not sleep that night. His anxiety far too high for him to be able to stay in one spot or close his eyes for an extended period of time. He felt like his plan would work, but he felt terrified at actually completing it.

Edmund wanted to stay happy, he didn't want to feel so terrible all the time, so he tried to not let his own mind sabotage him. But it was increasingly hard to keep doubts away when he was alone at night with nothing to do.

He was thrilled that he had direction in his life for once since the start of the semester, but it didn't stop him from being anxious.

As he sat on the cold, leather common room couch, he thought about what to do in order to distract himself. He considered his school work, but decided against it, not wanting a headache. His eyes scanned the darkly-furnitured room until they landed on the sketchbook Tomen gave to him for his birthday. Snagging it out his bag along with a pencil, he got ready to scribble something in it. But he stopped right before the lead touched the paper, his mind was blank. He spent a few moments moving his hand around to start, but never actually committed to make a mark on the crisp beige page.

The sound of tapping on glass made him whip around towards the window that outlooks into the Black Lake in fright. Through the dark, murky water, he could see a merperson slapping its webbed hand against the window. It had green scales that gleamed into a beautiful silver when the candlelight from inside hit it; flexible forest-colored spikes starting from its forehead to its lower back lead into a lime colored tail. It's large, round eyes were narrowed in anger as it shrieked and hit the glass again, this time harder. It seemed to get more pissed as time passed, so he approached it cautiously.

Edmund stood and put his book to the side. He felt ridiculous in his striped pajamas as he walked slowly towards the window with his hands up, and hoped no one would come in and see him. It's was interesting to see a merperson so close, he had never been close enough to see the extricate details in their appearance.

Once he got close enough, he saw a cat standing in front of the window, just staring at the merperson with scarily similar eyes.

"Goblin," he mumbled as he dropped his hands and scooped up the cat.

He hasn't seen his cat in a long time. Edmund assumed that Goblin didn't like to be cooped up, so he explored whenever he felt like it for weeks at a time. He was somehow still getting food because he looked very plump around the middle.

"Where have you been, Buddy?" he asked the cat, holding him up in front of him as he walked back to the couch. Goblin just looked at him, his overbite still extremely pronounced. Shaking his head, Edmund took a seat and put the cat in his lap, who immediately got comfortable and laid down. When he scratched him behind the ear, he purred loudly — which came out as a wheeze.

Edmund finally decided on what he was going to draw and did it. And after a few hours, he was finished. He gave himself until sunrise to complete the piece, and he did just that. Once he was done, he held it up to Goblin, who had just woken up, and asked, "What do you think? Do you like it?"

It was a drawing of Goblin's stupid sleeping face: one of his eyes half open, his tongue hanging out, and his ears in opposite directions. The only thing he was missing that he couldn't add was the loud snoring he did when he napped. Goblin stared, yawned, sneezed, and then went back to sleep.

"I'm taking that as a yes."

After that, he knew it was time.

He slipped Goblin off his completely asleep legs and got ready to go. No one was awake as far as he could see when he slipped out the dungeons and up the stairs. It was strange to see the corridors so empty and hear no noise besides the sound of his own footsteps, but Edmund didn't really have much time to ponder it as he walked hastily towards his destination.

He took a quick look around to make sure he was completely alone before slithering quietly into the Entrance Hall.

A/N:
goblin is back, bitches

translation:
"малко момче от скариди."
"little shrimp boy."