Look who is back with another chapter? This gal! Don't worry, stuff will start moving quickly after the first match, at least, I'm pretty positive they will. Anyway, hope you like this chapter. What am I even supposed to title this chapter, anyway?

Chapter 20: New Relations

Stunned silence surrounded the pack even as the whole of Hogwarts burst into applause and shouts and hoots more intense than either of the other schools combined. Someone shouted his name from his House table, and he shook himself from his shock. Standing on unsteady legs, the pack tentatively beginning to join in their school's enthusiasm, their voices rising above all the others in one fell swoop. Derek remained silent, only allowing Stiles' fingers to slide from his when he started towards Deaton, releasing a barely audible whine.

The Headmaster forced a smile, taking Stiles hand for a firm shake. "Our third champion!" he shouted above the din.

The hall grew wild. Stiles could hear everything and nothing at the same time. He could hear Melissa clapping and calling his name, he could hear the pack cheering over everyone else, he could hear his House completely losing it behind him. At the same time though, there was a static buzzing over the cacophony, muffling everything coming through his ears. He stood beside Allison and Kira who looked just as shell shocked, if not more, than he did, but also pleased.

Deaton let the excitement die down until the hall was excitedly buzzing. "Once the champions have been briefed, they will be returned to you all, and the feast will, at last, begin."

A cheer went up around the hall that dropped quickly into tittering conversation and grumbled disappointments and laughter just this side of hysterical. Leading the three away, the champions could only helplessly look at each other.

…..

Stiles sat in Deaton's office, a cup of steaming tea warming his hands, the soft swirls of vapor clouding over his face, leaving him warm and his face moist. The mug hung between his knees, his head hanging over it. They'd been silent for several hours, Deaton refilling their cups as they emptied. Stiles wasn't entirely sure that Deaton hadn't switched from tea to Fire Whiskey or some alcohol with a higher proof at some point.

Deaton slumped in his chair, running his hand over his face and his shaved head, staring up at the ceiling. He'd been silent since Stiles wondered in looking lost and forlorn. After the feast, the champions had been swept off into celebratory parties, but Stiles had slipped out of the Slytherin common room after it had devolved into celebratory chaos and he hadn't been able to find Derek.

"We never thought that any of us would have ever gotten chosen. The odds weren't in our favor at all. We just… we just wanted to know that we'd been brave enough to enter our names," Stiles finally whispered, lifting his cup to his lips with shaking fingers, "People die in these competitions. I told Derek that it wouldn't matter even if one of us did get chosen, but… it does. It does matter. And you-" He lifted his eyes to rest on his Headmaster, cold and a little disbelieving. "You knew. Even before you caught that slip of paper, you knew that I was the one who'd been chosen."

"I had a feeling, a very strong feeling, that you would be the one chosen. If it hadn't been you, I would suspect that it would have been someone else dearly important to keeping your pack glued together such as Mr. Hale, even though he did not enter his name, or Miss Martin," Deaton sighed, picking up his mug and tilting it back against his lips. Definitely Fire Whiskey.

For a moment, Stiles let his mind slip over the few details he knew of Harry Potter's forced entry as a champion, and wondered silently if something similar wouldn't have happened to Derek if Stiles hadn't been chosen. A prayer of thanks slipped passed his lips silently as he imagined if Derek had been chosen, or Lydia, or Scott. The things he would do to keep them safe extended further than his mind had the capacity to hold. "Are you saying that… someone influenced the Goblet to give my name?"

"The Goblet, though quite a strong magical object, is also easily tricked, and if it was already leaning more in your favor, it wouldn't have taken much to solidify the decision. Who is chosen is not a raffle, a gamble. The champions are based on several weighed criteria," Deaton explained, setting his empty mug back on his desk. He didn't refill it this time.

"Who? Who would mess with the Goblet?" Stiles asked, but even as the words left his mouth, an image of Kate snarling in his face was dredged up from the depths of his memory. He curled his fingers into tight fists.

Nodding, Deaton flipped through a book open on his desk without really seeing what was on the pages. "When I discovered that their Headmaster had brought Kate along with her school, I explicitly told her in several different languages that Kate was not welcome in on our grounds. No matter what I said, told her, she was adamant that Kate be with her, as she was, and I quote, her 'best teacher and her students needed a familiar, kind face to get comfortable'."

"Well, they can get comfortable with her at the bottom of the lake where she can't go setting houses on fire with families trapped in them or setting fire hexes on students," Stiles muttered bitterly. Guilt flickered in his chest though when he thought of Allison's grinning face. Obviously, it wasn't the students' fault that she was an award winning actress. "I wonder if Allison knows that Kate –her aunt?- is a soul sucking harpy."

Deaton chuckled for the first time in days, leaning forward to fill his mug with tea this time. "I doubt it. I have a feeling that Kate wouldn't let even her own niece know the kind of person she is. She lives on manipulation."

"Don't I know it?" They were quiet for a moment, sipping at their tea before Stiles swallowed thickly, eyes darting everywhere but at Deaton. They fell on Headmistress McGonagall as she stared at him with disapproving eyebrows. Jeez, her eyebrow game was almost as intimidating as Derek's. Looking away, he swallowed again. "So, um, Jackson kind of… got bit in the woods today… by a black wolf…"

Any mirth that had been simmering in Deaton's expression evaporated, leaving him looking more exhausted than before. "I know."

"Do you know what's going on? Why people keep getting bitten? If we don't do something soon, whoever it is, is going to kill or change the whole school."

"An assumption, I have an assumption of what's going on. Unfortunately, I won't know anything definite until I have a small talk with an… acquaintance of mine," Deaton explained, pulling himself upright in his chair and standing.

Stiles licked his lips agitatedly. "An acquaintance as in a teacher at Hogwarts?"

Deaton resisted the urge to shoot the too intelligent teen a glare. "Yes, and if I were you, I would keep tabs on Derek. If I am right, you're going to need to keep him close or more people are going to start getting hurt and/or turned. As for the questions I assume you have about yourself –yes, I know how the summer went- those will have to wait for another time." Stiles gaped up at him as he stood, coming around his desk to stride towards the door. "I will answer them to the best of my ability, but you have your first task to think about, Quidditch practice to get to, and a boyfriend to keep an eye on."

He paused just outside the door, looking over his shoulder at Stiles. "Oh, and it would be in your best interest not to miss Quidditch practice from now on. On the subject of your unasked questions, come back at the end of the year when you've practiced with your new ability a bit more." Without giving Stiles time to reply, he closed the door to his office and slipped off to only Salazar Slytherin knew where.

"What does that even mean?" Stiles shouted, glaring after him, "That didn't answer any of my questions!"

…..

Stiles aggressively flew through the drizzle that fell lazily over the Quidditch field. Anger and annoyance and just wanting to hex Kate so badly she'd never be able to get off again for returning flooded his muscles, pushing him faster. He took turns as sharp as he could, discovering new ways to tighten them. He made a game of trying to see how many rain drops he could dodge. The game was going well until the drizzle became a torrential downpour. He couldn't see a foot in front of him, let alone the grounds or the stands.

Sighing, he settled into gliding in a small circle in the middle of the field until he was soaked through to the bone. Slowing to a stop, he dropped his head back, reveling in the rain washing over his upturned face. "What am I going to do, Mom?" he mumbled, shoulders slumping and broom drooping beneath his lack of enthusiasm. He stayed like that for a long moment before he heard the calling of his name.

"Derek?" he called into the rain, dropping his head forward onto his chest. He wiped water from his eyes, squinting into the sheets as if he'd be able to see through them better. He was nearly upended when Derek came up beneath him, wrapping an arm around his waist. A squeak he'd never admit to slipped passed his lips. "Derek, what are you doing out here?"

Derek stared back at him, eyebrows pulled together in confusion and something akin to hurt. "I was worried about you. I haven't seen you since the Slytherins dragged you away. I went to ask the Headmaster because someone mentioned that they'd seen you going up to his office, but when I asked him, he said he hadn't seen you since he left you in his office several hours ago. When I asked around, everyone said that they hadn't seen you either. I know that you can disappear and not be found if you really want to, but this didn't seem like one of those times. I was just… worried." His voice trailed off, his eyes staring over his shoulder.

Sighing heavily, Stiles wrapped his arms around Derek's shoulders, dropping his forehead against his shoulder. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to worry you. Deaton just gave me a lot to think about because apparently he doesn't know how to answer a damn question. I just needed some time to myself to let everything sink in. A lot happened today in a short period of time."

Derek tightened his arm around his waist. "Do you still want to be alone?"

"Yes," Stiles mumbled, amending his response when he felt Derek tense against him, "But you're not everyone else. I want you to stay, if you feel like flying around in the pouring rain."

Derek's body sagged in relief. "I think I can live with that. The first Quidditch match isn't that far away, and I'm a bit out of practice." Pressing a kiss to Stiles temple, he muttered, "Oh, and I thought you should know, Jackson is awake, healed, and royally pissed at being attacked. Lydia is also pissed because you didn't come to her immediately to tell her that you were chosen."

Stiles groaned loudly, more at the fact that he was going to get an earful from Lydia later than about Jackson, but whined anyway, "But that means he's a werewolf."

"Yep."

"It took me all summer to get all of the pack members to act at least somewhat civilized on the full moon. Do you know what Jackson's presence is going to cause? It's going to cause a fucking uproar. Where am I supposed to hide bunch of hormonally unstable werewolf teenagers?"

"I suppose we'll just have to find a place, won't we?" Derek asked, chuckling as he pressed his lips back to Stiles' temple, "Don't worry, I'll be here to help you this time."

"You fucking better be," Stiles muttered irately, pressing his face into Derek's chest with a disgruntled growl.

Derek laughed, releasing Stiles from his hold and kicking away from him. Waggling his eyebrows, he called, "Catch me if you can," before disappearing into the rain. Rolling his eyes, Stiles tore after him, all thoughts of Kate and the tournament and Deaton's words to him forgotten for the time being.

…..

"What is Quidditch like at your school?" Allison asked Stiles curiously as she, Kira and he sat in the library, the only quiet place they could find away from their schoolmates and friends and teachers and everyone in between. They'd been discussing the first task, what it could be, what they'd have to do.

Both Stiles and Kira looked at her quizzically, their eyebrows already pulled together from their completely bafflement over the Tournament.

"What? I've only ever seen professional matches. We don't really have Quidditch teams at my home school," she explained with a noncommittal shrug of her shoulders, "Everyone's a little too prissy for that and we don't technically have the room for it either, though we do play some of the really dangerous muggle sports when the number of fights in the school increases." She shrugged again.

Stiles smirked, imagining Allison's schoolmates getting decked out in pads with lacrosse sticks and the hard, wooden balls instead of the hollow plastic ones and just going to town on each other, braking nails left and right along with a few bones. "Well, I mean, I guess it's not that much different from professional Quidditch. We have four teams, one to represent each House. We play matches against each other on the Quidditch field. We all usually cheer for our own House, but if your House isn't playing, and you have friends in one of the Houses that is, you cheer for whoever you want. Really, Quidditch matches are sort of an all day thing for us. Classes get out early and everyone packs into the stadium and we celebrate or despair after. It's fun."

Allison grinned, tilting back on her chair legs as she imagined it. "It sounds fun. Are we… are we invited? To come cheer you guys on?" she asked tentatively, looking to Kira instead of at him, "You know, since there's a match coming up soon."

"Yes, of course you can come, you're our friends. Even if you weren't, why would we tell your schools that they're not allowed to come share in the excitement and fun of a match?" Stiles explained as if it was obvious.

They grinned back at him. "Slytherin is going to be playing Gryffindor this match, right?" Kira asked, resting her elbow on the book open beneath her. She'd been staring at it blankly for the past hour. It seemed to be getting better use as a pillow than it had when trying to provide information.

"How does that work with everyone? All of you guys seem really close, but it has to be tense when the season rolls around," Allison said, resting her chin on her folded arms.

"Actually, yeah, it gets really tense, but you can't really do anything about it. We all just kind of fight it out or give up after awhile. It's all fun and games until we're at the match. Then we all become throat-cutting back stabbers until a winner for the match had been decided," Stiles explained, grinning as he remembered last year when Erica had gotten so animated about how Slytherin was obviously going to win against Hufflepuff that she, Isaac and Boyd had sent jinxes back and forth at each other for a week until the match was determined. "It doesn't help that a lot of our friends are part of the teams."

Kira laughed, soft and gentle, while Allison laughed a little louder, covering her smile with her hand. "That sounds like a conundrum in and of itself," Kira said, grinning widely.

"Don't worry. If you stick around, you'll both get to witness what a clusterfuck we become," Stiles told them with a grin of his own.

There used to be a point to this chapter. It was sort of at the beginning of the chapter, but it ended up being a kind of fun chapter by the end. I'm just biding my time for a while. I had a little too much time on my hands after class today, and typed this up in one go.